The Intervention Job
by Sapphire Smoke
Summary: Sophie's been in the habit of holding interventions ever since the one with Nate, and this time Hardison is her next victim. •Hardison/Parker/Eliot•
1. The Magazine

**Title:** The Intervention Job  
**Author:** Devereauxx  
**Fandom:** Leverage  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing:** Parker/Hardison/Eliot  
**Summery:** Sophie's been in the habit of holding interventions ever since the one with Nate, and this time Hardison is her next victim.  
**A/N:** I don't know where the hell this came from, and it's probably really ridiculous lol. I don't even know if it has a proper point. Its just kinda... there. Here. Whatever.

**CHAPTER ONE  
The Magazine**

The use of interventions between the team started when Nate was an alcoholic jackass. It was Sophie's idea – of course – because she likes to solve other people's problems without taking five friggin seconds to glance at all of her own fucked up issues. But the interventions didn't stop with Nate. Two months later, Sophie decided that everyone should hold one for Parker "to focus on her attachment issues." Which basically, when it came down to it, was about her borderline disturbing obsession with money.

That intervention was one for the books, with Parker getting upset, really upset (which was a bitch to watch just because it was _Parker_, and the girl never shows any other emotion rather than blatant nonchalance and a complete lack of empathy). Eliot wouldn't say it worked exactly, but she did stop petting it and talking to it in that creepy way that some adults sometimes feel the need to talk to babies with. Eliot's pretty sure she was dropped on her head as a small child. Multiple times.

Sophie considers the intervention a success, however. Eliot considers it a waste of time.

The next one, or rather the current one, the one that's making them all stand in Nate's apartment with freaking little note cards that they all have to read off of right now, is with Hardison. While normally Eliot would go tell Sophie where she needs to stick her note card while having a nice long look at herself in the process, this one was _way_ too good to pass up.

It all started because Parker was snooping in Hardison's sock drawer. She just does that, snooping, being all up in everyone's personal space without having a half a clue of how annoying she's being. After the vibrator fiasco with Sophie (which, if Eliot is to be honest, was possibly the best day of his life – or at least the damn funniest), Eliot decided to start hiding what he didn't want Parker to see in a storage facility. He figured everyone else would get the hint and try to do the same, seeing as putting a lock on anything is useless when it comes to Parker, and no matter how many times Sophie sits her down and tries to explain what privacy means, she still doesn't get it.

But Hardison apparently did not take the vibrator incident as a warning, because here they all are.

The door opens to Nate's apartment, and as soon as Hardison sees everyone standing there in a line with their little note cards, he stops dead. Eliot smirks. Damn, he can't wait for this one.

"Ya'll _can't_ be serious," Hardison says, looking at each one of them, a look of disbelief on his face. "Are you about to bitch about how much time I spend online? Because let me remind you, it's what I _do._ You take away my baby, you take away your hacker. Baby, hacker. Comprende?"

"Hardison, please sit down," Sophie tells him gently, like she's trying to be all motherly or some other crap that Eliot finds to be entirely too frightening. "This isn't about your computer, and it's more of a… well, we're trying to help you with this, not stop it. Because there is nothing wrong with it, okay? _There is nothing wrong with it_," Sophie stresses again, trying to make a point. Eliot smirks more. This is going to be so fucking funny.

Hardison's looking at them all suspiciously, and he slowly closes the door behind him and makes his way over to the chair designated for him. "Alright…" he says slowly. "Ya'll lost me. Is this about internet porn? Cause Eliot's got mo—"

"Have you been in my computer?" Eliot asks, accusingly. What the hell? Man can't even jack off without the little perv wanting to know what he's doing it to.

"This isn't about your internet porn, we checked that," Sophie tells him, and Hardison's eyebrows raise.

"You… what now?"

"I like porn," Parker says with a little smile, just trying to put in her two cents. Everyone ignores her. Well, everyone except for Eliot, who's now looking at her like she might actually be part human after all.

"This was Sophie's idea," Nate tells him, just trying to get the blame off of himself. He never wants to be at any of these either. But he bends over backwards for that freaking women more often than not recently. Like the damn tables have turned.

"Well, we found – or rather Parker found, this," Sophie pulls out a magazine from behind her back and shows it too him. Hardison's eyes go wide. "In your sock drawer. And Hardison, we just want you to know, that whatever you're going through, if you're experimenting or curious, we're all with you one hundred percent, and support any decision you come to."

Hardison just keeps staring at her.

"It's okay if you think you might be gay, or bisexual. You know now it's not really that big of a—" But Sophie's cut off now, Hardison finding his voice.

"Alright, first of all, you," he points to Parker, "Are never allowed in my house again. Ever. And second of all, _that_," he waves his finger dramatically at the offending magazine, "Was for research."

"What the hell kind of research makes you need to look at some guys dick up another guys ass?" Eliot asks.

"Eliot!" Sophie scolds, and hits him with the back of her hand. He growls at her. Just cause he ain't hitting a defenseless girl, doesn't mean he gets to be abused.

"It was for a Doctor/Master slash fic that I— actually, you know what? Ya'll are crazy. Damn psycho with a side of nuts. Ya'll need to get the hell out of my private life," Hardison tells them, anger in his voice now. He gets up and snatches the magazine out of Sophie's hand, and heads towards the door.

"Eliot," Sophie says, and Eliot rolls his eyes. This is the part he always has to do – prevent the person from leaving. So he stands in front of the door, and Hardison stops.

"Move."

"Just sit the fuck back down, Hardison. Let Sophie have her five minutes of her caring about someone other than herself so she can sleep better at night," Eliot tells him, and Hardison looks at him like he'd like to rip him apart with his bare hands, but knows he could never take him, so he was pretty frustrated over it.

"Hey, that's not why—" Sophie starts, but Parker interrupts.

"I liked the magazine, Hardison," she tells him with a smile. Eliot isn't sure if he wants to know if she's just trying to be helpful, or whether she actually enjoyed it in the manner it's supposed to be taken.

"Jesus Christ," Hardison says, just fed up, and stalks back over to the chair and flops down in it. "Get this over with."

Sophie smiles, happy with her small victory. "Now, we all have some things to say to you. And since I already said what I had to say, Nate, why don't you go first?"

"Me?" Nate asks, who turns back to her from looking out of the window. Eliot's pretty sure he was trying to plan an escape route. "Why me? Have Eliot go first."

"Just do it, Nathan," Sophie tells him sternly, using his full name like that's supposed to have some kind of effect.

Obviously it does. The man has no balls.

Nate sighs and looks down at his card. He coughs kind of awkwardly before starting, "Hardison, if you're gay, that's fine with me." Then silence. Sophie looks annoyed.

"That's all you wrote?"

"All I could think of," Nate tells her, and she makes this frustrated sound before turning to Parker. "Parker, it's your turn."

Why she thought Parker's would be any better, Eliot has no idea.

She picks up her card, peering at it closely, and says in this dead monotonic voice, "Hardison, if you get a boyfriend, I think it would cool." A pause. "Oh, and I want to know if I could ever watch."

Eliot almost choked. Okay, maybe Parker did like the magazine in the way it was intended. Hardison just stares at her like she has five heads.

"Parker!" Sophie scolds. "That… that… okay, none of us wanted to know that."

"You said write something supportive, isn't that supportive?" Parker asks her, and Eliot smirks. Yup, this was definitely the most entertaining intervention ever.

Sophie sighs and waves her hand, "Eliot."

Eliot reads off his card, "I don't give a shit what you do, just don't hit on me and we're square."

"Oh for the love of—" Sophie starts to say, past the point of frustrated herself now.

Hardison just cocked an eyebrow at him. "Cocky bastard, much? Even if I did like guys – which I ain't saying I do – you ain't my type."

"I'm everyone's type," Eliot tells him. Because he is. He _so _is. I mean, look at him. He's fucking fabulous.

Sophie sighs, "Alright, now that we've all had our say… or whatever the bloody hell that rubbish was supposed to pass as, this is how we're going to help you."

"I don't need any—" Hardison starts to say, but is interrupted.

"We think, well, I think, that you should go to a gay bar. Try out the lifestyle a little, so you can make a more comfortable decision," Sophie tells him. Eliot didn't know about this part, and apparently neither did anyone else, since everyone's looking at her. Sophie always decided the best way to 'help', or whatever the fuck she's trying to look like she's doing.

"I ain't going to no—"

"Eliot will go with you, so you don't have to be alone," Sophie finishes, and Eliot's eyebrows raise.

"What? No! Make Nate go!"

"Eliot, we're being _supportive_, and Nate frankly should not be anywhere near a bar," Sophie tells him, and Nate looks like he just won the damn lottery with that statement.

"He_ lives_ above a fucking bar!" Eliot bursts out, annoyed now. Why the hell does he have to go? It ain't the gay thing, he doesn't care about that. He's secure enough in his sexuality to do all that, but spending time with Hardison? Like outside of work? Hell and no.

"I ain't—" Hardison tries to say again, but he can't ever get a sentence out anymore.

"Yes, you are. Both of you are. Eliot, Hardison is your friend, you need to be supportive and help him on this journey." Eliot thinks the word friend is stretching it a bit far, but fuck it. One night, it won't kill him. Hopefully. And Sophie will shut the fuck up for awhile, which is always a nice bonus.

"Fine, whatever," Eliot says, crossing his arms over his chest. He still doesn't like the plan.

"I don't wanna—"

"Oh, just shut up, Hardison. You're fucking going," Eliot tells him. He ain't dragging this shit out longer than it needs to be.

But with this intervention done, three down, one to go… Eliot already knows he's going to be Sophie's next victim. He has a feeling it'll be about his hair, or something equally as stupid. The girl seriously needs therapy instead of trying to play the therapist.

And he ain't cutting his hair. Ever.

Just for the record.

**TBC… **


	2. The Outburst

**A/N: It was pointed out to me that Eliot doesn't own a computer but er, for the sake of the story, lets pretend he does lol. This is more crack/humor more than trying to be serious. Just having some fun. Also, in regards to Doctor/Master, in my mind, Hardison ships Doctor/Everyone lol. Nothing trumps Doctor/Donna though, but that's my opinion.**

**CHAPTER TWO  
The Outburst**

"Hold my hand."

"What? No, _hell_ no."

Eliot watches as Hardison sighs in annoyance and shifts on his feet, looking up at the sign above the gay bar they were supposed to enter. "Dude, I don't wanna go in there and be hit on!"

"Ain't no one gonna hit on you, Hardison. You ain't _that_ pretty," Eliot tells him with a scowl. He is not going to hold his hand and pretend to be his boy toy or something just to give Hardison piece of mind. No fucking way.

"I'll have you know, I have abs of _steel_. Everyone thinks I'm sexy," Hardison tells him with a cocked eyebrow and some attitude. Eliot snorts.

"Right, that's why you have so many dates. When's the last time you got laid, again?"

Hardison glares at him. Eliot sighs, they need to get this friggin night over with. "Just come on," he tells him. "Least we can get a damn drink."

Eliot starts to walk into the bar, Hardison behind him mumbling, "Great, yeah, just what I need. To be drunk in a gay bar around a bunch of other drunk gay guys that are gonna try to pick me up. Great."

"Oh shut up, will you?" Eliot tells him, making his way to the bar. "If _anyone's_ gonna attempt to pick up one of us, they're gonna try me, not you." Not that he wants that to happen or anything, but it's just common knowledge. It wouldn't be the first time a gay guy hit on him, and it sure as hell won't be the last.

He slides onto one of the bar stools, Hardison grudgingly sitting beside him. "Whiskey," he tells the bartender who comes over to him, flashing him a dazzling smile. "On the rocks."

The bartender smiles and starts pouring his drink. When he slides it over to Eliot he tells him, "No charge," with a little wink. See? What did he say? He might not be gay, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to work it with… whoever.

"You're intolerable," Hardison tells him.

"What?" Eliot says and takes a sip of his drink. Whiskey was definitely hitting the spot right about now. "It ain't my fault I'm pretty."

"Aren't you all supposed to be here helping me 'come out' or whatever?" Hardison tells him with a slight mock in his voice and the use of very annoying finger quotes.

"So you admit it then?"

"No!" Hardison exclaims. "Just you know, if I _was_ – and I ain't saying I _am_ – kinda rude to take all the guys for yourself."

"Jesus Christ, Hardison. I ain't picking up no guy, just getting a free drink. Now shut up and order one for yourself," Eliot tells him. But Hardison just stares at him, so Eliot waves the bartender over. "A whiskey for my friend here."

"I don't drink whiskey," Hardison tells him.

"You do now."

"Have I mentioned you're intolerable?"

"Twice now," Eliot tells him, and slides the shot over to Hardison. "Now drink up. We're gonna have to stay here for at least an hour to make Sophie shut up about it."

"How's she gonna know if we just… go?" Hardison asks, in this pathetic hopeful voice. But he should know better. Sophie's got her ways.

"Drink your shot," Eliot orders, pointing at it. Hardison flashes his eyes at him but picks it and brings it to his lips. He makes a face and Eliot waves his finger some more, before Hardison downs it and makes a face like it's the most disgusting thing in the world. Eliot smirks. "And do you remember Parker's intervention? Bitch put fucking _cameras_ everywhere to see if she was acting weird with the money."

"She didn't know what bar we were going to, how the hell did she put up cameras?" Hardison asks, and now his paranoid ass is looking around for them anywhere his eyes can see.

"My guess? She got Parker to follow us, girls like a freaking ninja when it comes to not wanting to be seen. Sophie don't do any dirty work herself," Eliot tells him, and taps his hand on the bar to get the bartenders attention. He holds up two fingers and points to him and Hardison. Another round.

"She'd be a woman in a bar full of men, how hard would it be to find her?" Hardison asks, but doesn't look convinced about what he's saying because now his eyes are scanning the room for a certain blonde.

"Just leave it, man. Here," Eliot tells him, sliding him another shot and raising his up. "Just drink up, forty five more minutes. Just stop acting like a fucking spaz." Hardison looks at the shot like it's something offensive, and glances back up at Eliot. Eliot narrows his eyes and motions to it. He ain't holding up his fucking glass for no reason.

"You ain't my daddy," Hardison tells him, like that's supposed to mean he can't make him do things. But of course he can.

"Drink the damn shot or I'm gonna tell Sophie you implied you wanted me to be your 'Daddy'," Eliot tells him with a smirk. Okay, maybe that was blackmail, but the look on Hardison's face was too damn priceless to pass up.

"I hate you," Hardison tells him, but picks up his shot glass and clinks it together with Eliot's before they both take them. Hardison gags a little bit.

"Man up," Eliot tells him, but he's still smirking. Maybe going out with Hardison wasn't so bad. He gets to torture him a little at least, and that's always fun.

Four shots later, Eliot decides to let Hardison rest. It's starting to become clear his tolerance is not as high as his is. Eliot's a bit buzzed, sure, but Hardison… Hardison was a bit drunk now. Which would be amusing in any other circumstance, but it was funnier in here.

"Dude, that guy just looked at my ass," Hardison tells him in a whisper, getting close to him so he could keep his voice down.

"Hardison, you're sitting down," Eliot tells him with a smirk.

"I am? I mean I am. I knew that. But he did, I saw it. Or he wanted to, if I stood up, he totally would have been looking," Hardison tells him in all seriousness. It almost makes Eliot laugh. Almost. "I have to pee," Hardison tells him suddenly, like Eliot needed to know that little fact or something, and he stands up.

"You're right, he just looked at your ass," Eliot says, fucking with him. He didn't really, or well, he could have, but Eliot wasn't paying attention.

"Huh? He did? What?" Hardison says, and whips around to look at the man. He blinks and doesn't say anything before he tells Eliot again, "I need to pee."

"Then fucking pee, stop standing around. Shit," Eliot tells him, and Hardison nods before heading off into the bathroom.

As fun as this night is (Eliot's not sure if that's sarcasm or not yet, but he's learning towards yes, just because it's Hardison), he needs to bring the drunk fool home anyway. Eliot's not sure how long he's going to be able to stand if he keeps this up.

But it's taking Hardison an unusually long time to pee, so Eliot stands up, hoping he's not gonna walk in and see Hardison passed out and drowning in the urinal or something. If he is though, he does have a cell phone. Kodak moment and all. Eliot smirks to himself, now half hoping to see something like that.

But just as he nears the bathroom, Hardison comes out, with said staring-at-ass man behind him. "Baby! There you are!" Hardison tells him with a voice filled with relief, and Eliot makes a face. What the fuck did he just call him?

But it got worse.

Suddenly Hardison's lips are on his, and he's pinned up against the narrow corridor wall with Hardison's body against his. Eliot has half a mind to push him off and deck him square in the jaw, maybe make his head spin around for good measure, but for some reason he doesn't. It all happened so fast anyway that he didn't really have time to properly react, because then Hardison is off of him, and he pleads to him in a whisper, "Don't hit me, and I mean _please_ don't hit me, seriously, I'll explain in a minute."

"You fucking better," Eliot growls at him. "Come on, we're leaving." He needed to get out of there; the alcohol was obviously taking over his brain. If he were sober, he _definitely _would have slammed the boys face into the ground. If he were sober, he wouldn't still have the feel of Hardison's lips on his like he was some woman. If he were sober, this would have never happened.

Fucking liquor.

When they're out of the bar and into the cool night air, Eliot rounds on him. "What the _fuck_, Hardison!" His sense was getting back to him now. Hardison just fucking kissed him. A man just kissed _him_. That was nine shades of fucked up. Damn boy is gay, obviously. Did he not make it clear on his little note card that he was to not be hit on, let alone be… Christ. What the hell.

Hardison puts up his hands in defense and backs up a couple steps. "Hey, hey man, I'm sorry, seriously! You're the last person I ever… yuck. But that guy was trying to corner me and be all… _gay_ with me! I did the first thing I could think of! Ain't no one gonna fuck with _your_ property."

He did have a point there. No one fucks with what's his. But Hardison _isn't_ his! He doesn't _want_ him to be his!

"The first thing you could think of was to kiss me?" Eliot yells at him, furious. "You're a lying sack, you know that? You _are_ gay!"

"I am not gay!" Hardison yells at him.

"You're flaming! Fucking _flaming_ gay! Just admit it!"

"I'm _NOT!"_

"You ARE! You wanted to—"

"FINE!" Hardison screams at him, throwing his hands up a little. "Maybe I am, just a little bit, okay? I don't know! Are you happy now? Are you?! FUCK YOU, ELIOT!"

Eliot stops, and just stares at him. Hardison's breathing heavily, eyes narrow as he glares at him like he hates him for making him admit that. Eliot doesn't know what to say, because maybe somewhere deep down he didn't really think it was true. This was all one big joke to him because he _knows_ the kid likes Parker, so he couldn't be gay.

Eliot obviously missed the whole bisexual prospect. But now that's staring him in the face, and he doesn't know what to do. He actually feels bad, which he wasn't expecting either. This was something serious to Hardison and he just… laughed it off. What kind of asshole does that make him? He might not like the kid on most days, but he ain't gonna be purposely horrible to him when he's going through something. He ain't that kind of man.

"Hey… I'm sorry, man," Eliot tells him, saying the only thing he can think of.

"Just forget it," Hardison tells him, and starts walking past him and towards the car.

"Hardison, wait. Just fucking wait a second, damnit!" Eliot tells him, and runs up to him and takes him by the shoulder, turning him around. Hardison stares at him, a mixture of anger, self pity, and confusion on his face. It hits Eliot really hard. "Look, you do what you do, okay? I was serious about that part. It don't matter to me if you are or aren't. It's your thing."

Hardison doesn't say anything for awhile, and Eliot gives him a little encouraging pat on the shoulder. Support, or whatever. "Don't tell anyone else," Hardison tells him softly.

"I won't."

**TBC…**


	3. The Picture

**CHAPTER THREE  
The Picture**

Being the only one who knows a secret is like signing yourself up to be a voluntary therapist.

Normally Eliot would let the secret lie, never speak of it again, and advise the other person to do the same. With Hardison though, it was different. This is one thing about having a fucking 'family' that gnaws at you: the caring part. The boy is clearly distressed, and leaving him alone in his apartment to contemplate his life or drown himself in a water bucket in front of his guild or whatever the hell it is he was planning on doing, didn't seem to be the best idea.

"You don't have to stay," Hardison tells him as he sits down heavily on his couch and puts his head in his hands.

"You'll probably drown in your own vomit if I don't," Eliot tells him.

"I'm not _that_ drunk."

"Yeah, well," Eliot says and sits down on the couch next to him. He ain't going to say the words, 'I care, I'm here to help,' because that just sounds so fucking mushy and he has a reputation to uphold.

Or whatever.

"Really, Eliot, you don't—"

"Shut up, will ya? I'm here, so just leave it," Eliot snaps at him. Man, try to give a shit about someone and they try to force your foot out the door anyway.

"Fine," Hardison says, and leans back, crossing his arms. He's pouting a bit too, he looks so much like a damn toddler it's uncanny. "But I ain't talking about it."

"Fine," Eliot says, and grabs the remote. Might as well watch one of the millions of sports channels Hardison has.

"Fine," Hardison says again, and watches Eliot flip through the channels. There's maybe about five minutes of silence, probably less though, before Hardison mumbles, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Eliot sighs and flips off the TV. Well, it was worth a shot. He turns to him. "There ain't nothing wrong with you, there's a bunch of gay people in the world. Hell, they're gettin' married now. So it's whatever."

"I ain't gay, let's make that perfectly clear in this conversation," Hardison tells him with a little warning finger. Eliot wants to mock the warning finger, but restrains himself.

"Fine. Bisexual," Eliot corrects himself.

"Bi… curious," Hardison starts to agree, then changes it. Eliot rolls his eyes a little. Right, as far as the first step goes, admitting it, he ain't getting a gold star.

"Same difference."

"No, it's not. It's _s_o not. There is a distinct difference, trust me. With the… distinctness," Hardison tells him. Eliot wants to smack him on the back of the head, but doubts that will help any. His brain is already pretty rattled.

"You like to look at other guys cocks. Tomato, tomahto, I say," Eliot tells him bluntly, and Hardison's eyes go wide.

"I…I _never_ said that I… I mean, I _don't_… I…" he starts stuttering, and pointing with that damn finger again. Eliot grabs a hold of it to stop him.

"Dude, you had gay porn, that part spoke loud and clear for itself."

Hardison doesn't know what to say to that, and Eliot's lets go of his finger before he finds out if that game 'pull my finger' is actually true. "I like Parker," Hardison tells him, the first time Eliot thinks he's ever _really_ voiced that little tidbit outloud, only Eliot's pretty sure he's only using it as a defense now.

"I know," Eliot tells him, and Hardison just stares at him. Eliot stares back, he didn't _really_ think he was low key about his little attraction did he? I mean, really. But regardless. "And Parker's got apparently some kinky fetish of two men, so I think you already got it made, personally."

Hardison groans, "That's _weird._"

"_She's_ weird," Eliot corrects. Because she's the weirdest fucking broad he's ever known.

"Why I like her," Hardison tells him softly. "She's… different."

"Then shut up about it, and be happy that she doesn't think that _you're_ weird," Eliot tells him. Then a pause. "But you are, just for the record. You're fucking really weird. Not for this, but just you in general."

"Thanks." Sarcasm.

"No problem," Eliot smirks.

There's a long silence before Hardison says softly, not looking at him, "I'm sorry I kissed you, man."

Eliot tenses a little, and he swears it was like a freaking movie in his head as it flashed back to that moment. The details seem to be a bit fuzzy, even though it only happened about an hour ago. All the flash contained was Hardison's warm body pressed against his, the way he could feel exactly how much Hardison _did_ have abs of steel (though he'll never admit it to him), his soft lips brushing over his before going in for the kill (and yes, that's how he's going to refer to it, because it was like murder), and his breathing… his warm breath that came out in short bursts against his lips from either fear of Eliot hitting him for doing it… or desire, Eliot wasn't sure. He also isn't sure why everything seems to be going in slow motion in his head, and why he's just sitting there, silent, probably looking like fucking _Parker_, as all this happens again.

"Eliot?"

Eliot blinks and shakes his head a little. Fucking liquor. Fucking… everything. If gay turns out to really be contagious then…

"You're pissed still, aren't you?"

"No," Eliot tells him automatically. "Just… don't talk about it, okay? Never happened." God, he is never drinking again. Ever. His alcohol induced haze is making him have… no he's not even going to say it. _Tendencies_. He's not fucking saying the word that's supposed to go in front of that.

Never. Drinking. Again.

"Alright," Hardison tells him, and then there's silence again. Eliot's starting to feel awkward, a feeling he doesn't normally get to experience.

But of course, because everything this world has a freaking _plan_ to conspire against them and make everything even more fucked up… the doorbell rings.

Eliot looks at Hardison, and Hardison looks back at him. Then they both look at the door. Who the hell is that?

Hardison doesn't seem to be moving, so Eliot stands up with a sigh and opens the door. "You know how to use a doorbell?" is out of his mouth in an automatic reaction to the person standing in front of him. But Parker doesn't say anything, she just holds up a cell phone in his face. Eliot squints from the brightness shining in his eyes before he looks at what's on it.

Oh, he's gonna fucking kill her.

"Sophie told me to go, and I went, and I saw, and she said she wanted to proof that Hardison was accepting who he is, or whatever, so she'll drop it or something, and so I took this, but now I don't think I wanna show her cause… cause I don't know why," Parker lets out all in one breath.

Okay, maybe he won't kill her. Now.

Hardison comes up behind Eliot and lets out a shriek only reserved for women and ubergeeks (he did _not_ just use the word 'ubergeek', what is happening to him?) as he see's who it is and what she's holding. More specifically, what she has a picture of.

"Just get inside," Eliot tells her gruffly as he herds her in with one hand and checks the hallway to see if anyone else has followed. He can't help it, now Parker's got him paranoid. When he closes the door, Hardison's just staring at her with his eyes wide and his mouth open and completely mute.

"Are you gay too?" Parker asks him. It's worse than that though, she asks it so innocently, almost like a child would, so he can't find it in him to yell at her for even assuming such a preposterous thing.

Who knew preposterous was even in his vocabulary? Hm. That was new.

"It's not what it looks like," Eliot tells her, because it isn't. It really, really isn't. He didn't_ like_ it or anything.

…Of course not.

"So you didn't kiss him?" Parker asks, looking at her cell phone confused of the picture of him and Hardison… god.

"It was just so…" Eliot starts, and then lets out an aggravated sigh. He doesn't even know how to explain it. "It was to get Hardison out of a situation," Eliot tells her, then finishes with. "And he kissed me, for the record." Because that record needs to be known. Noted and fucking filed. With a damn official seal.

Parker rounds on Hardison, who's still catching flies. But she smiles at him, in that weird little way that she does that apparently makes Hardison feel a little better, because he closes his mouth. "I like that you like boys," Parker tells him with a little nod.

But of course, that isn't the end of it.

"Can you kiss Eliot again?"

"NO!" both Hardison and Eliot yell automatically, and Parker jumps a little bit from the force of it. Then she pouts.

"Parker," Eliot tells her, his patience being tested now. Of all the people to know, why Parker? "This isn't some kind of fucking game."

"I know that," she tells him seriously, and almost offended that Eliot questioned it.

"This is serious for Hardison."

"I know that."

"And he doesn't want anyone to know yet, so just… leave it, alright?" Eliot tells her, hoping for once she'll fucking get it.

When the hell did he become 'the great Hardison defender'?

But the next thing out of Parker's mouth isn't to Eliot, it's to Hardison. She goes up to him slowly and peers at him. "Do you want me to forget?" she asks him, like it's something horrible. Like she doesn't like that she's not allowed to be in on the secret.

"I…" Hardison starts to say, but doesn't seem to know what to really say to her. Eliot actually feels bad for him, having Parker know is probably not one of the things high on his priorities list for a variety of reasons. "Just please…. damn Parker, and I'm serious, _please_ don't tell anyone. And don't… I _don't_ want to talk about it, okay? Just leave it, like Eliot said."

Parker looks at him, that pout still evident at the corner of her lips. "But… aren't I your friend?"

"Yeah girl, but—"

"Then why does Eliot get to talk about it but I don't?" Parker asks, not understanding. Shit, this doesn't look good. Eliot thinks they actually just hurt her feelings. Before this he was ninety seven percent sure that the aliens took those away from her when she was abducted.

Okay, that was a little weird, even for him. Once again: fucking liquor. Or maybe fucking Hardison, since he's always the one going on about aliens in Doctor—

Fucking Hardison.

GOD DAMNIT. LIQUOR! What the fuck is wrong with his brain?! Gay is completely contagious, obviously. Eliot backs up a few steps for good measure. There's obviously got the be a distance factor involved.

"Parker you're… you're different," Hardison tries to explain, but he's frustrated and upset and he's not doing a very good job, and Parker clearly still doesn't understand.

"I know I'm _different_, everyone always tells me that. I know I'm not… like," she waves her hand at the two of them, and he last part come out in a softer voice, maybe even a bit sad, "Normal."

"That's not what I meant!" Hardison tells her, just bursts out in his frustration. He obviously can't think of any other way to rectify the situation, so the truth seemed to win out, whether he wanted it to or not, "You're different because I _like_ you!"

Parker stops. Then she's blinking, staring. "Oh," she says softly. Eliot thinks this conversation is entirely too awkward for his presence, and wants to leave, but Parker's blocking the door. "Um," she says, obviously not knowing how to deal with this piece of conversation. Hardison's just standing there, looking at her, looking like he may shatter into a million pieces if she just walks away.

"I, um," Parker says, and shifts on her feet. She folds her arms into herself and looks down at the ground as she shuffles a bit, before looking back up at him. "Locks," she tells him. One word. One damn word that makes no freaking sense to Eliot.

"I know," Hardison tells her, and lets out a breath, relieved she didn't run. What the hell? Does Parker and him some kind of secret language now? Eliot feels left out, something he doesn't think he's experienced much either. What _is_ it with him lately?

"The picking, it's not—"

"I know," Hardison tells her again. "But that's why… why it's different, okay? I can't… just not now."

Parker purses her lips and nods. There's silence for awhile before she tells him softly, "I won't tell anyone. Cross my heart." Hardison nods, grateful.

Eliot still wants to know what the hell locks have to do with anything.

**TBC…**


	4. The Issue

**A/N:** Sorry for the lack of updates. My Mac up and went and had a spaz, so I had to go buy a new computer... and then I made the mistake of downloading World of Warcraft and that completely sucked my soul. SO. Yeah, sorry. Ha. And by the way, if this ends up turning into a Eliot/Parker/Hardison, its not my fault -shifty-

**CHAPTER FOUR  
The Issue**

They never met clients together. Not all of them, anyway. Always Nate, most of the time with Sophie, and that one disaster with Parker. That should have tipped him off right then, but Eliot was just looking for something to do to get his mind off of everything with Hardison. Sobering up obviously didn't seem to fix whatever damn issue he was having right now. Not Hardison's issue, Eliot's. Eliot had an issue. Eliot had a big fucking issue.

But he's not ready to admit that issue, even in his head. So he's just going to leave it at that: an issue. He blames his brain, and his near photographic memory that seemed to cater to his sense of touch more than his good sense.

Whatever. They had a client, and he needed a beer.

When he got to McRory's, Nate and Sophie were sitting at a booth next to each other with Parker looking incredibly uncomfortable across from them. She was fidgeting, picking at her clothes, and couldn't seem to sit still. Eliot knitted his eyebrows together as he approached them, sliding in next to Parker.

"Ain't here yet?" Stating the obvious, but Parker was making his skin crawl with nervousness. He hated when she was acting weird, he wasn't sure why. She seemed to have this uncanny ability to have it effect other people, and right now he was getting it full force. "Stop fidgeting," he grumbles under his breath to her.

"I have to move," she tells him. Damn, watch the girl have ADD now on top of all her other issues.

"Client's running a little late," Nate tells him. His voice has this weird pitch, right before he shifts his eyes over to Sophie.

Oh no.

Eliot starts to get up, knowing exactly what this is, mumbling something about needing a beer, but gets pushed back into the booth and trapped by Hardison unknowingly walking directly into the lion's mouth. Or the hand where Sophie has a firm grip on Nate's balls. Either way.

"Thought I'd be late," Hardison says as he looks around the bar, double checking that he in fact wasn't late, and not that their client is just in the bathroom or something. "So who're we dealing with?"

Eliot wanted out of this booth. Being trapped between Hardison and Parker and what's about to happen didn't seem like a great place to be. Especially because with the way Parker was acting, he's afraid that Sophie somehow got her hands on that picture. Parker said she would delete it, but it was _Parker._ You just never know.

It was making his chest tight, and his throat dry, and all he wanted was a fucking beer and he felt trapped. He hated feeling trapped. It made him want to hit something.

"Running a bit late," Sophie tells him, with a smile as she lies to his face. Eliot knows there isn't any client. Why didn't he put two and two together before is beyond him. He's been way too distracted lately, always in his head with his… issues. Damn fucking issues.

"But while we're waiting..." Sophie continues. Nate starts to look uncomfortable, Parker starts to fidget more. Yup, here we go. "How did the bar go?"

Eliot can feel Hardison tense next to him. Eliot tries to keep himself relaxed, but it's proving difficult. He decides that keeping his eyes focused on something other than the people at this table seemed like a better way to go. The beer seemed like a great thing to look at, if only he could get to it.

"Fine," Hardison says in a flat voice, trying to end that conversation, but of course with Sophie… nothing is ever really ended.

"I heard it didn't go so well," Sophie tells him in this sympathetic voice, which actually makes Eliot be able to look at her. If she thinks it didn't go well, than that means she doesn't know that he was involved in Hardison's… road to gayness, or whatever. Not that he was actually_ involved_ with that road. That's not what he means. He was just there. And got kissed due to a wrong place wrong time situation.

Or whatever. Fuck.

"It went fine," Hardison tells her in this low, dangerous voice with his eyes narrowed. "Look, can you just… drop it, okay?" he looks around, obviously not comfortable discussing this in a public place. Eliot couldn't blame him.

"Hardison, we're all here to help you," Sophie tells him patiently.

"There_ is_ no client, is there?" Hardison exclaims, finally catching on, and moves to get up. Yup, good move.

But he doesn't get all the way out of the booth before Sophie pulls out the one card no one saw coming. "No Hardison, please don't leave. I'm sorry."

That made everyone stop and just stare at her. Hardison was even half out of his seat, hovering in mid air. Sophie _never_ apologized, at least not out right and fully. She'd rather choke on her own vomit than admit she made a mistake.

Which is why Eliot is pretty sure she only did it because she knew it would make him stop. And it worked, the manipulative bitch. Eliot maybe admires that. Just a little. It's evil, but it's damn useful.

Unfortunately it also blocked the path from the booth from hell, to the alcohol.

"You're what?" Hardison asks, wondering if he heard her right.

"I just…" Sophie starts, and her eyes shift. She's avoiding saying it again, something Eliot does actually find believable. "I was just trying to help, but if you…" a heavy sigh then a mumbled, "Nevermind."

Now she's playing the guilt card. Man, two different cards in under two minutes? She just doesn't give up. Why Hardison isn't seeing through this, he has no idea.

Eliot looks over at the bar longingly, but instead of his eyes landing on the taps (which was what he was going for), his eyes land on the ass of a sexy blonde leaning over the bar as she orders a drink. Nice. But now he wanted to get up even more.

He needs to end this conversation now.

"Sophie, I'm _fine,"_ Hardison stresses, wanting to end the conversation too. He was fidgeting now, looking a lot like Parker. In fact, she's been awful quiet. That's not like her…

"Look, I'll take him to a club or something," Eliot tells all of them, while still staring at the girl's ass at the bar. He didn't have to be looking at them to know that everyone just stopped and is now staring at him.

"What?" Nate asks, the first thing he's said since they all sat down.

"Really, Eliot?" Sophie says in this… god awful annoying tone. Like she thinks it's sweet or something ridiculous like that. He just wanted to get Sophie off of his back.

And stop these meetings. Mainly stopping the meetings. Yeah…

"Dude, I don't think I wanna—"

"Shut up, Hardison. Conversation over, now move," Eliot tells him. Hardison sputters a little, but with a little push he's out of the booth and Eliot's free.

He's not going to dwell on the fact that he just offered to go to a gay club. He's not. There's a hot blonde over there, beer calling and… oh, she's finally turning around. Get a good look at what he's gonna be working with later…

He thinks he just choked on his own breath.

Parker turns and smiles at him, holding up a beer to him. He kind of wants to bang his head against something heavy, since maybe it'll make his brain work right for once. How the hell did she get out of the…? Actually no, that's not what the problem is. Parker's always disappearing and appearing randomly. The problem was that he was just staring at her ass for a good ten minutes. He was staring at _Parker's_ ass. The world really has turned upside down.

There is something seriously wrong with him. He now has more issues than he can even count. Her ass? SERIOUSLY? Parker?!

"Here," she says, and hands the beer to him. "You were staring at it earlier."

He just blinks at her, takes it, and walks away. He needed to get out there. _You were staring at it earlier. _Yeah, he was. But not the beer. Fuck, he has a migrane. He needs to go to a different bar, watch the game, and just… not think.

That sounds like a good, solid plan.

Then again, anything that doesn't involve being around Sophie and her pet Nate, staring at Parker's ass, or thinking about Hardison, seemed like an excellent plan in his book anyway.

**TBC…**


	5. The Pinky Swear

**CHAPTER FIVE  
The Pinky Swear**

"Do I look okay?"

Eliot cocks an eyebrow in Hardison's direction, who's busy in front of the mirror, trying to smooth out his nonexistent hair and turning around a bit to try to look at himself from all sides. "I can't believe I didn't realize you were gay earlier," Eliot tells him, commenting on his behavior. Hardison turns around and glares at him.

"Hey, I'm not— whatever, shut up. I'm just trying to… you know what? Just go play with your hair or something," Hardison tells him, frustrated, and turns back around towards the mirror.

Eliot smirked, but absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, just in case it was mussed up or something. A little muss is good; a lot makes it look like he doesn't own a brush. Which he does. He owns a couple, as a matter of fact.

"How much do you think I should cut off?"

Eliot turns and see's Parker in the threshold of the doorway, scissors in hand. Oh no.

"DON'T CUT YOUR HAIR!" Both Eliot and Hardison yell at the same time, and Parker blinks and looks confused at the sudden outburst.

"But how am I supposed to attract the lesbians if I don't?"

"Parker," Eliot sighs, and rubs his temples. God, this woman. "You're not going, and even if you were you don't—why the _hell _would you wanna attract lesbians anyway?"

"Because you both are bisexual, so I wanted to find out if I am too," Parker tells them both with a little smile, a little nod.

Eliot's head fucking exploded.

"I am NOT bisexual! That's _him!"_ Eliot shouts, pointing at the offending man in the doorway of the bathroom, who flipped him off, but looked more amused with the situation than Eliot would allow.

"Defensive, aren't we?" Hardison chuckles. Eliot narrows his eyes, giving him a glare that most people would run screaming from. Hardison however, just widened his smirk. God, that man's such a fucking bastard.

"You kissed him," Parker tells him as she walks past Hardison and looks at herself in the mirror as she raises the scissors to her hair. Hardison swipes the offending object in the nick of time, and Parker pouts.

"_He_ kissed _me_," Eliot growls, then bursts out, "And you're not going, so I don't know why you're trying to get all… butch."

"I have to go, I have to get proof. Sophie says so," Parker tells him, then stares at her attire as she picks at her shirt before turning around to Hardison, "Can I borrow some of your clothes? Lesbians were guy's clothes, right?"

"Sure," Hardison tells her, and Eliot throws up his hands at him like "what the hell, man?" and Hardison just shrugs as Parker goes into Hardison's bedroom to find a lesbian costume, or whatever it is that she's trying to do.

"This is fucking ridiculous."

"It was _your_ idea," Hardison tells him, and then smirks before mocking, "Something you're not telling us, Eliot?"

"Fuck off, man. Only reason I said I'd bring you was to get Sophie off of _your _back, so you're welcome."

"It's still pointless, Sophie ain't gonna be off my back till she has 'proof', and I'm not… I'm_ so_ not making out with some random dude," Hardison tells him. He's right though, she won't, so Eliot has no idea how the hell they're going to get that without…

"You made out with Eliot," Parker interjects as she comes back into the room, and then asks without missing a beat, "Do I look like a lesbian?"

"Photoshop!"

"What?" Hardison asks, looking between them both confused. He focuses on Parker and gives her the thumbs up, even though Parker didn't really look a lesbian at all. In fact, putting her in an oversized button down undershirt made her somehow look even hotter, which Eliot wishes he didn't admit in his head. Both Hardison and Eliot dismissed her makeout comment. They just… didn't want to think about that. Ever. Again.

Ever.

"Photoshop!" Hardison cries out, finally getting what Eliot was talking about. "I can manipulate the picture! That's freaking _genius_, Eliot!"

Eliot smirks. Well, it is what it is. Or rather, he is what he is.

"Wait… I need a picture of me making out with someone first," Hardison says, then slumps onto the couch dejectedly.

"Why?" Eliot asks. If he had the picture, he wouldn't have to manipulate it, isn't that the point? Then again, the only thing he knows how to do on Photoshop is like… draw with a pencil. And erase it. Sometimes smudge it. That damn programs confusing.

"For it to look seamless I'll have to use a picture of me making out with someone, and then I'll have to basically…" he looks at Eliot, knowing he'd have to explain this in simple terms. "I'd have to cut it out and paste it onto a picture with a guy and… you know, mess with it a little, or a lot, whatever, until it looks good. You can't start with nothing."

Oh. Well, shit. Well—hang on wait a minute… "You don't have any pictures of you making out with chicks?" Doesn't _everyone_ have those?

"Unlike you, I don't feel the need to parade around my women."

"At least I _have_ women to parade around," Eliot retorts back. Hardison scoffs.

"Make out with Eliot again," Parker tells Hardison, and both Hardison and Eliot stop griping and turn to look at her.

"NO!"

Parker narrows her eyes, then puts her hands on her hips. "Well if you didn't make me delete the other one you already would have a picture."

"You make out with Hardison," Eliot tells her. "And_ I'll_ take the picture."

"I can't," Parker tells him, like he should know that. Like it's obvious. Poor Hardison looked like Christmas had come early only to find out the Grinch stole it, all in a matter of thirty seconds.

"Why not?" Eliot asks her.

"Because I'm a lesbian today, obviously," Parker tells him, and swipes her hands down her form to indicate her little costume.

"And I'm straight every day!" Eliot yells at her, his temper rising. He is not kissing Hardison, not again. Fuck that!

"You're not a lesbian," Hardison tells her. Maybe a bit too hopefully.

"How would you know? I don't even know. That's why we were going to go to the club." A pause. "We're still going right?"

"Not if I get that picture," Hardison tells her.

"Fine, then no picture," Parker tells him, like that's final, and grabs her coat and starts walking towards the door.

What the fuck?

Eliot would much rather Parker just stick her tongue down Hardison's throat for two damn seconds then actually have to go to that club. "Damnit, Parker! Just kiss him already!"

Parker whipped around, "_You _kiss him!"

Hardison raised his hand, "Do I get a vote in this?" But both Parker and Eliot ignore him, both squaring off and glaring at each other.

"You just wanna get off on it," Eliot tells her forcefully, his temper rising. Because what the hell, right? Obviously the little perv just wants to see it again, her and her twisted little fantasies.

"I'm trying to help Hardison!"

"You can help him by kissing him!" Eliot yells back. This woman is damn frustrating! Crazy fucking…

"BUT I'M A LESBIAN TODAY!"

"Parker, you're not a fucking—!"

"SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!" Hardison screams, which makes both of them stop and look at him. "God, ya'll aren't helping. Rather not be here while you both fight over how _horrible_ it is to kiss me. Rather fucking just… you know what? Just get out of my house, I'll deal with Sophie on my own," Hardison tells them, and storms into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Shit.

"This is your fault," Eliot tells her. Because it is.

Parker looks halfway between furious and upset, and her eyes flicker to Hardison's closed bedroom door. "Na uh," she says, but its quiet. Crap, she is really upset. What the hell, why does this always happen? Why does he even _care?_

"Why won't you just kiss him?" Eliot asks her, but it isn't accusing, more soft. Curious.

"Because I…" Parker starts, and then stops. She purses her lips. "Nevermind." She shuffles her feet a little.

"The lock thing, whatever that was?" Eliot asks her.

"No… well yeah, no."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Talking to this woman needs to come with a deciphering code. Parker mumbles something, and Eliot raises his eyebrows. "What?" Parker mumbles something again, but Eliot still doesn't hear it so he says, "Parker, just spit it out already."

"I like him, okay?! There's the butterflies, and the feelings, and the bounciness and the key but it's not ready yet!" Parker yells this time, and looks absolutely _furious_ with Eliot for making her admit that… whatever that just was. He only understood about half of it. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive, and tells him, "Just leave me alone."

And now Parker's trying to walk away. God damnit, this whole damn team is just so fucking dysfunctional.

"Parker, hold on," Eliot calls after her, but she doesn't stop. Eliot walks up to her and puts a hand on her shoulder, but it must have triggered some sort of reflex Parker has when she feels exposed and she turns, fury written all over her face as she tries to hit him. Eliot only barely caught her wrist and managed to divert it away from his face. "Hey! Whoa, slow down! Parker, chill, it's me!"

Parker yanks her wrist out of his grip and just glares at him. "Hey darlin' come on… relax. I ain't gonna tell him or anything. Not if you ain't ready."

That makes Parker be able to breathe a little better, and her glare falters a bit. But it's back up and she demands, "Pinky swear."

Pinky…? Oh, for the love of shit.

Eliot sighs in defeat and puts up his pinky. What is he, five now? "Pinky swear." Parker looks apprehensive for a moment before she takes his pinky with her own and shakes it firmly. Then she relaxes.

There's silence for a moment as they both turn and look at Hardison's door. "I'll give you five grand if you kiss him," Parker tells him softly.

"That's chump change," Eliot tells her evenly.

"Better than nothing, and you know you're gonna have to. I can't."

This is hell.

Seriously, his fucking life should have a welcome sign that says "Welcome to Hell, please enjoy your stay. The beers free, and so are the men."

Men. This is why this is hell.

Actually, what made it hell is that he knows that Parker's right. The only reason she's right though is because if he suggests that she be the one that kisses Hardison again she might try to _rip _off his pinky next time. He already can't believe he calmed her down that fast; the girls got some violent anger issues. And if she can't kiss him, who's left? Him. Fucking… him.

He really doesn't want to do this.

And it's not even kissing a man bit. That should bother him, yes. But how hard is it to just picture Angelina Jolie in his head while he's doing it? Not very hard. He's done that with some of the less picture perfect women he's slept with. No, the problem was that it was Hardison, and he sees him, everyday. The problem is that it's Hardison, and he apparently likes men. The problem is this: what if Hardison starts getting used to kissing him? What if he starts to think…?

Damnit.

Eliot feels backed into a wall, like some kind of trapped animal in the third dimension of sexual hell.

Okay, he drifted a bit there.

But he takes a deep breath, and mentally prepares Angelina Jolie naked in his head. Okay, he can do this. He's man enough to do this. "Get your phone ready to take the picture. Just… follow me, okay?"

"You're gonna do it?" Parker asks, like she can't actually believe he agreed to it.

"Just shut up and be ready, okay?" Eliot tells her, just wanting her to be quiet about it. He doesn't need it said _outloud._

And then he's off, striding through the living room and opening up Hardison's door. Hardison turns around in surprise and anger and starts, "Eliot, I thought I said—"

"Shut up and just go with it," Eliot tells him gruffly as he grabs his shirt, pushes him against the smooth surface of his bedroom wall and crashes his lips to his.

Damnit.

Hardison mumbles something that sounds like surprised shock against Eliot's lips, but Eliot focuses on Angelina naked and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into the other man's mouth. Suddenly Hardison relaxes, and Eliot can feel him grab his hip and dig his fingers in a bit as a sound that somewhat resembles the most horrifying noise in the world – a moan – escapes his lips.

But that wasn't the worst part.

Angelina was gone, floated away into damn nothingness and all he could think about was Hardison, and how he did kiss surprisingly well, and how part of him didn't want to stop. He tried, he tried to pull away. That was it; Parker must have gotten the picture by now. But he didn't stop. It terrified him to like the way Hardison was grabbing onto him, it fucking terrified him to realize he just nipped at the younger man's bottom lip, and it terrified him that… that it was starting to make him hard.

"Okay, I uh… I… got it," Parker tells the two men in this weird tone, and that jerked Eliot out of his haze as he stumbled back away from Hardison, both of them breathing a little heavily. They both just stared at each other, chests heaving, looking at each other like they both had no idea what had just happened. Eliot took a couple more steps back for good measure.

"That was sexy," Parker breathes, looking at both of them. That makes both of them look at _her, _and then back at each other.

"I gotta get home," Eliot tells him, his brain screaming at him and giving him a headache. He felt hazy, his senses were all fucked up, and he just needed to get the hell out of there.

"Yeah… I uh, I guess we got what we needed," Hardison tells him awkwardly, and then looks over at Parker, who was staring at the picture her phone in the most disturbing way.

"Good cause I gotta…" Eliot says, backing up.

"Yeah…."

"Right," Eliot finishes, and gets the _hell_ outta dodge.

What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

**TBC…**


	6. The Argument

**CHAPTER SIX  
The Argument**

Eliot hasn't spoken to anyone in a week.

His damn phone was ringing so much that he "accidentally" smashed in against a wall before deciding he just needed to get the fuck away. It was Parker and Hardison who called the most. Nate called once to tell him that they had a new client, but Eliot didn't call back and he didn't come so he figures the rest of the team made out okay without him. Sophie called a couple times, asking where he was, saying that Nate was furious, but that was only the first two days. After that though things had been pretty silent, though only because the phone was crushed into tiny pieces.

And then he got away. He just got in his car, drove north to freaking Canada, and camped out in the woods for four straight days. No electronics, no anything that will make him think about Hardison. Just trees, leaves, animals, and bugs. Nothing around him that in any way, shape or form, says to him, "Eliot, you might kind of be a bit of a faggot."

Shit.

The sabbatical didn't work though. Being out in the woods where it's quiet, and he's alone, just made him think even more. Killing things didn't even help any, but then again Eliot never got off on killing innocent animals. Hunting is great and all, but there's no thrill or challenge in it, and without thrill or challenge, his mind continues to wander. It just fucking wanders, and wanders, until it locks on to that idamn/i memory of him and Hardison on fucking display for Parker. She better have deleted that picture after Hardison was finished… _fixing it_.

Fuck, he better of fixed it and didn't just give it to Sophie the way it was. He knows a million places to hide a body. For the record.

This whole thing made him feel like something was eating him from the inside, chewing up his damn stomach and forcing its way up his throat. It squeezed his insides, made him nauseous, and made him want to hit something until his knuckles bleed. It made him want to do irrational shit just to prove to himself that he's a man. But no matter what he wanted to do, what he even tried to do to fix it, it just wouldn't go away. All he could think about was Hardison.

What's worse, he's gotten to the stage where he's worried that he freaked him out, and now things were going to be weird between them. They're already fucked all to hell and back again anyway, but what if Hardison thought that he wanted him, and what if Hardison_ didn't _want him?

Okay, that's ridiculous. Everyone wants him.

At least that's what he always believed. Maybe his cockiness isn't that attractive, but he tries to keep it internal. But right now his cocky attitude was failing, and he has this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about Hardison might think he's disgusting or something.

Man, he's turning into such a _woman._

He slumped onto his couch after striding back into his house and slamming the door behind him. He let out a breath, and just stared at the wall opposite of him. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Part of him told him to just fucking run, get the hell out of there, out of this whole stupid little group thing that they all got going on but… shit, these people? As much as he hates to admit it, they're his family. When once it was easy to just leave without a second thought, now he couldn't even get the strength to pack a bag.

His head hurt, his stomach hurt, and all he could just do is sit there.

An hour passed, maybe two. Hell, even three, he really wasn't keeping track. But then he hears a knock on the door, and every inch of his skin started to prickle and his muscles tense as he immediately grew defensive. But he just sits there, ignoring it. Whoever it is will go away eventually.

But they didn't. The knocking kept fucking continuing, and it made Eliot want to freaking scream, open the door, and just beat the hell out of the person on the other side of it.

But then he hears the lock click, and he jumps up. Ready for an attack, though he was sure it probably wasn't one, he watched the door open. When he saw who it was he unclenched his fists and glared. "Is privacy a foreign concept to you?"

Hardison looks just as surprised to see Eliot in front of him as well. "Thought you weren't home."

"So what, you were trying to fucking break in then?"

"No, I… just shut up, Eliot. You're always such a fucking asshole, you know?" Hardison tells him as he comes inside and shuts the door behind him. "I said I didn't think you were home, didn't mean I wasn't hoping that you were."

Eliot didn't know what to say to that, so instead he opts with, "I'm getting new locks."

Hardison scoffs and replies, "Go for it, Parker's taught me how to pick a lot of things."

"What do you want, Hardison?" Eliot asks, and sits back down on his couch, arms crossed across his chest. He was feelings fucking weird, and he didn't like it.

"To see that you weren't dead, for one. Or that you left permanently. You know, it's a real shitty thing to do when you just up and leave like that. Everyone was worried," Hardison tells him, as he has the nerve to _lecture_ him.

"Oh, I'm sorry Daddy, I'll never do it again, promise," Eliot replies in sarcastically and resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"Fuck this, nevermind. Forget I even came," Hardison tells him, his own anger starting to rise to the surface, and he turns to leave. But Eliot doesn't want him to leave. He has no idea where that came from, because he was pretty sure up until five seconds ago that he wanted him as far away from him as possible.

"I just… had to leave," Eliot tries to explain, half heartedly. He hates having to explain himself, and he hates talking about his feelings even more. He likes to pretend he doesn't have any.

Hardison stops and turns back to him, "And you couldn't take two damn seconds out of your day to tell any of us?"

"Look, I won't do it again, okay? So just leave it," Eliot tells him gruffly, staring at the television, which isn't on. He just doesn't want to look at him.

"I ain't just gonna leave it, Eliot. I know why you left."

"You don't know shit."

"Stop being such a bastard, it's getting old. I get it cause I wanted to leave for the same damn reason, alright?" Hardison tells him, voiced raised and forceful. That makes Eliot glance at him.

"So what then?" Eliot asks him. "You want to sit down and have us _talk out our feelings_?" Sarcasm. Fuck feelings. He almost used finger quotes, but that would be pushing it too far.

"No, don't be stupid," Hardison tells him, though doesn't sound too convinced on the matter. Neither was Eliot, honestly. They both are silent for a little while until Hardison gives up and sits next to him on the couch. They both don't look at each other, and neither of them speak.

Finally Hardison says, "We gotta deal with this somehow though. Otherwise it's gonna be all…"

"Fucked up."

"Weird," Hardison finishes, but shrugs. "That too. Already is that."

"What the hell am I supposed to say? I was just trying to help. If Parker would have just did it herself we wouldn't be doing this shit right now. Whatever this is," Eliot says, still not looking at him. There, he shared and participated. He's done now.

"It ain't Parker's fault. It's mine. I should've just went to that stupid club," Hardison tells him. Eliot doesn't care who's to blame, as long as it isn't him. So this works.

Eliot still doesn't say anything, since he's done with sharing now, so Hardison goes on. "But if you wanna… you know, talk or whatever… about what you're going through, I'm here. You helped me."

That makes Eliot look at him and say forcefully, needing to make his point, "I ain't going through _anything."_

"Eliot, I felt you… uh…." Hardison starts, but doesn't finish from the awkwardness of saying it. It didn't matter though, because that made Eliot blow his fucking top.

"Hardison, I ain't no fucking fag! I don't know what the hell you thought you felt but I—"

"A fag?!" Hardison yells. Oh shit, that wasn't supposed to come out of his mouth. And now Hardison was up, on his feet, yelling over him. It makes Eliot stand to, be face to face with him on even ground. Level the field. "Is that what you fucking think I am then?!"

"I didn't mean it like—!" Eliot tries to defend, but knows he's already fucked it up.

"How many other ways can you mean it?!" Hardison screamed at him, and he's actually making Eliot start to feel bad. "Fuck you, Eliot! I should just leave before I get my gay cooties all over you then, huh?"

He turns to walk away, but Eliot puts a hand on his shoulder. Hardison shoves it off and keeps walking, so Eliot grabs him more forcefully. "Stop! Damnit, Hardison!"

"Get off of me!"

"No, damnit! Listen for one fucking second, will you?! I'm sorry! It just fucking… came out, I don't know!" Eliot tries, but he has no idea how to defend what he just said to him.

Hardison turns and glares down at him and says evenly, anger written all over his face and tainting his voice, "Least I know what you really think now."

"That's not—"

"Just shut up, Eliot. You're just a fucking asshole, and you always will be." Then he's walking away, towards the door, and Eliot doesn't know what to do.

It hurts. He hates to admit that it hurts, but it does. He didn't mean to say… fuck he didn't mean it. He just said it cause of… everything. This whole screwed up situation. Out of fear, or something. He doesn't know. Damnit, all he's been thinking about has been Hardison for the last couple of days, and he didn't mean… shit.

"I'm fucking scared, okay?!" Eliot screams at him, hating with every fiber in his being for being honest. But it made Hardison stop again and turn to look at him.

"And you think I'm not?! It's not fucking easy!"

"I GET THAT, DAMNIT!" Eliot yells, frustrated beyond words. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to say, how to fix this problem, or even if he wants to fix it anymore.

"Then stop being a dick and talk to me!" Hardison yells, demands at him. Eliot's getting overwhelmed, his anger and his fear at the point of exploding. "Tell me how the fuck you feel about it for shit's sake!"

"I LIKED IT, AND I FUCKING HATE THAT I DID, ALRIGHT!?" Eliot yells at him. "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!"

Hardison stops and just stares at him. There's silence for what seems like forever, and Eliot just wants to fucking hit something, anything. His chest is heaving, his heart feels like it's being compressed into a damn _marble _and he doesn't think he's ever hated silence more in his entire life.

Finally Hardison speaks, but when he does it's quiet and cautious. "Because I'm a man… or because it's me?"

Eliot doesn't answer for awhile, only because he doesn't want to tell him that he thinks its because of him. So he lies. "I don't know."

"Oh," Hardison says, and Eliot wants to hit_ him_ now. 'Oh'? Seriously? Is that the best he could do?

All Eliot can do is mumble, "You're turn."

"I…" Hardison starts to say, but suddenly he's looking at the floor awkwardly. "I guess I liked it too…"

"You guess?"

"I did, okay? Jesus."

"Because I'm a—?" Eliot starts to ask the same question Hardison asks him, but is interrupted.

"I don't know."

"Oh."

Great, now he was doing it. There's more silence before Hardison says softly. "Maybe we should just… talk about this later… or something. I don't think I can handle anymore of this right now."

Eliot takes a deep breath, the first one it feels in like a fucking century, and he nods. "Yeah. Later." Or never, but he doubts that wish will come true. But even now, he doesn't even know if his hearts even in that wish anymore.

"Later," Hardison repeats.

There was silence for a little while longer before they said their awkward goodbyes and Eliot was alone again. And once again, the theme of his freaking life now apparently, he didn't know what to do.

Part of him wanted to go after Hardison, just fucking… kiss him. God, he hates that he wants that. And maybe because of that, that's why he didn't. Because of that, why he just sat on his couch and continued staring at the wall. Because of that, he was more scared than he's ever been in his entire life.

**TBC…**


	7. The Man Whore

**A/N:** Yeah, it turned into an OT3. Yell at me if you hate it, praise me if you love it. But it's staying that way. I just love me some Parker.

**CHAPTER SEVEN  
The Man Whore**

Eliot awoke to the sound of someone in his kitchen. Every inch of his body alert, he didn't make a sound as he climbed out of bed and swept out of his room silently. This isn't the first time this has happened, and it sure as hell ain't it'll be the last. While the last couple times this has happened it's been Parker doing her damn… _snooping _routine again, it would be stupid to let his guard down just because he thinks the thief is going through his shit yet again.

But as he enters his kitchen, ready for a fight… he see's Parker. His muscles relax and he growls, "What the hell are you doin' here?"

Parker turns around, and he catches a glimpse of what's on the counter behind her. His eyes narrow, what the hell?

"You never decorate," she tells him. But she it's not what she says, it's how she says it that makes him think something's wrong.

"Halloween ain't my thing, gives jackasses an excuse to… just fucking be jackasses," Eliot tells her, looking at the freshly carved pumpkin behind her. She carved it, or at least, he could only assume it _was_ her that carved it because the way she did it… well, it ain't anything normal, that's for sure.

"It's fun, you get to be someone you're not," Parker tells him, something that usually would make her smile, but she doesn't.

Eliot leans against the threshold of his door and looks at her. There's something off about this whole thing. "Somethin' you wanna talk about, darlin'?"

Parker looks like she's having some kind of internal struggle, and Eliot just watches her curiously. She's fidgeting a bit, and her lips are pursed. Finally she bursts out in a hurry, "You left."

"You're mad at me cause I left? You ain't one to talk," Eliot tells her, but gently. He knows she'd leave in a heartbeat if she felt like it. Hell, how many times did she run off on them in Serbia?

"I've never left, not really," Parker tells him. She's playing with her hands, and Eliot knows there's more to this than she's letting on. "I should, but I don't. And I don't care. You left, but you came back. But then you made him be all…"

"Him? Him who? Hardison?" Eliot asks, trying to work this out. When Parker's trying to make sense, she usually never does. What the hell did he 'make' Hardison do?

Parkers silent again, looking awkward as she has another internal struggle. But she takes a deep breath, sets her jaw, and looks at him. "I don't steal things from you, so don't do it to me."

Eliot just blinks at her. Knowing full well what she's implying, but not quite believing it, he can't help but let out a little laugh as he answers, "Do you seriously think I…? Are you… are you _serious_?" Alright, it's one thing for him to like kissing Hardison. He can deal with that. Well, alright, not well, but he can still deal. Another to even _imply_ that he wanted…

Wait.

Is Parker jealous? Jealous of _him?_ Has this world freaking turned upside down?

"You have lots of women. Joan, and Melissa, and Bobbi, and Susan, and Jane, and—"

"I get it, Parker," Eliot interrupts.

"Sally, and Jessica, and Rose, and Nikki, and April, and—"

"I get it, Parker!"

"But I don't have lots of women," Parker says, and Eliot raises his eyebrows. Parker doesn't noticed, just keeps going, "Or men. So just… don't. You take everything you want but I don't want you to have him."

Eliot seriously wanted to slap himself to see if he was still awake. This is all so fucking… bizarre. Besides… "Ain't you the one who's keepin' him on the backburner? You can't get something stolen that you don't own, sweetheart." Okay, maybe he was a little pissed now. Not that he knew why, but he was starting to get there.

Parker narrows her eyes, and then they go wide again. Uh oh, that was her furious glare. And damnit, he has no idea why the hell that came out of his mouth in the first place. It wasn't like he _cared_ whether Parker had him or not, he didn't give a shit who Hardison was with. Okay, maybe he did a little. But why should he care if he goes with Parker? Just cause he liked kissing the man, MAYBE, just ONCE, it didn't mean he wanted to buy the guy a bouquet of flowers and fuckin' serenade him.

But that still didn't change the fact that Parker said she didn't want him yet, so there really isn't any need for her to go all Wife Swap on him like this. And there definitely wasn't a need to make him out to be some sort of slut.

"You DON'T understand!" Parker yells, the only thing she seemed to be able _to_ yell, since she was never the best at verbalizing her own feelings. She slams down the knife she had in her hand, the pumpkin carving knife, and Eliot has no idea why the hell he didn't realize she was holding it to begin with. What the hell is happening to him?

"And weren't you the one who thought him being with a man would be hot? And lemme quote here in case you forgot: you would 'want to watch'?" There was finger quotes this time, he couldn't help himself. Apparently he couldn't stop himself either, seeing as he wasn't shutting his mouth. Why the hell is he arguing over something he doesn't care about?

And why the hell was he arguing with _Parker,_ of all people?

"I DIDN'T MEAN WITH YOU!" Parker explodes, and it actually makes Eliot stop for a second and look at her like he didn't know who the hell was standing in front of him anymore.

Why the hell are they fighting about this? And why the hell was it actually getting him mad?

"You're the one who was watching us like you were gonna orgasm all over your damn self!" Eliot yells, then has the fleeting thought that maybe he went a little bit too far with that one. Talking about Parker and orgasms just didn't sit right in the same sentence.

"That was before you were gonna ruin everything! EVERYTHING!" Parker yelled, and then she picks up the knife again. Eliot's sure she's not going to do anything with it; she probably just needs to hold something to control herself. While a knife isn't the best choice, Parker has never been one to make the greatest of choices. She probably didn't even notice she picked it up. But she's still talking, still yelling. "You can sleep with the whole country, I don't care, just please don't with him!"

But the knife is waving around, the damn girl can't hold it properly and he's afraid she's just gonna throw it and not realize what the hell she's doing. So Eliot does what comes instinctually and grabs her wrist with the knife, pressing on the pressure point that'll make her drop it. The pressure seems to freak her out though, make her think she's being attacked so she swings and connects. "Damnit, Parker!" Eliot growls and grabs her other hand, pressing her up against the counter to prevent her from moving. He needed to calm her down. "Don't fuckin' yell at me and pick up a knife!"

Okay, he wasn't the best at calming people down.

"I was just holding it! LET ME GO, ELIOT! NOW!" She struggling against him, and he releases his grip. She relaxes finally, but they're both breathing heavily, just staring at each other, each of their faces barely an inch away as they glare at each other. There's silence for awhile before Parker tells him evenly, but quietly, "Have someone else."

"You can have him," Eliot tells her, but still doesn't move. Neither does she. Parker does that blinking thing that she does with her eyes, that weird one, and looks at him like something's supposed to happen. Maybe it's that he's supposed to move, but she ain't either and right now he kinda just wants to glare at her. Because hell, she storms into_ his _house and starts all this damn drama for no reason.

"Why do you look like you want to kiss me?"

That revelation _does_ make him let go of her and take a step back. He blinks as he realizes that he wasn't glaring at her like he thought he was… he was staring at her lips. "I wasn't… I don't wanna kiss you, Parker." Because he doesn't, he _so_ doesn't. Maybe just that little morning idiot that inhabits his body until noon does. But that ain't him. He doesn't like her, hell he likes any other woman more than he likes Parker. Just cause she's not all that horrible looking doesn't mean he wants to stick it in her or anything.

Alright, this is getting ridiculous.

"You wanted to kiss me!" Parker says, like she's actually realizing something that's both surprising and really amusing at the same time. That ticks Eliot off. Even more now that she has to nerve to point at him like he's some kind of side show freak act.

"Parker, I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last woman on this earth," Eliot tells her evenly, but it has absolutely no effect on her like it would a normal human being. She's still looking at him like he's something she's fascinated and amused by. And plus, he ain't sure if it's all that true, and it's making him even more pissed off.

"Yes you would, you almost did," Parker tells him. She's in her own little world, disassociating from the fight they had before. Trying to make it about something else. And even though Eliot knows all this, she's still getting to him.

"I didn't _almost_ anything!"

"You were like_ this _close…" Parker starts, that stupid grin on her face as she squishes her fingers together to indicate something tiny, which was _no where near_ how close they were together. They were so, SO much farther away than that! Miles fuckin' away!

"Just shut up, Parker! Get the hell outta my house," Eliot growls. This damn woman… she's so fucking—

"You were all like this," Parker says with a smirk, and starts to _mock_ him by pulling this stupid little doe eyed look as she steps towards him so that she's almost pressed against him. Now she's making stupid kissy lips, and it's just pissing him the hell off, so he shoves her back against the counter and presses his lips against hers. Just to make her shut up, or prove a fucking point, or fuck knows what else. He's just pissed, and apparently this is how he's gonna solve it. Shocking the girl fucking mute.

The kiss doesn't last long. He's off of her just as soon as he was on her, and that damn smirk is wiped off her face now. She looks like she just saw a ghost as she just stares at him. But he's still pissed off. Something he can't describe is just eating at him, clawing its way to the surface and making him want to explode.

"There! Happy? Fuck, Parker. I kissed Hardison, fuckin' kissed you, who's next? Would you prefer it be Nate or Sophie?" he growls. She's still staring at him like she doesn't know what to do, and he ain't done. Shit's just coming out of his mouth, and hell if he knows where it's coming from. "Obviously you need to fuckin' list every damn woman I've ever had, fuckin' have to bitch cause you think I want your… whatever the hell he is, he still ain't yours, by the way. So what? I'm just this fuckin' man whore, thinkin' that just cause I've had whoever, whatever, that I don't got no damn feelings? That I just… you know what? Just go fuck yourself, Parker. And while you're at it, why don't you go buy yourself some damn emotions with that money you fuckin' masturbate with at night, maybe then you might be somewhat human and stop fuckin' talking about shit you don't understand."

Alright, he seriously took that _way_ too far.

But he was pissed, he was royally fucking pissed. He had no idea why, maybe his feelings are hurt. Maybe he's just sick of people thinking he just his dick in whatever comes along. Maybe he's fucking pissed because part of it's kinda true. Maybe she's fucking right.

God damnit.

"I don't…" Parker starts, her voice shaking a little. Oh, shit. "I don't masturbate with money," she tells him finally. But that's clearly not what's upsetting her, and she's just picking something out of the mix because she doesn't know how to respond to anything else.

"Damnit, Parker…" Eliot sighs and leans against the counter, running his fingers through his hair. He has a headache. "I didn't mean… I'm sorry, alright? I'm just… fuckin' pissed."

Silence. Then, "You kiss people when you're mad?"

He looks up at her, and she's looking at him funny. But that really wasn't anything new, he could never decipher what she's thinking just by how she looks. "I just… no. I don't know. I just did it. Make you shut up or something."

"So we can stop fighting?"

"Yeah… but it didn't work out so well, did it, darlin'?" Eliot smirked, a bit amused in that way that's really not so funny. "I didn't mean what I said, I just fuckin' hate when people assume that I sleep with every god damn broad that comes around me. I'm just… fuckin' _pissed_ that even you would see that, and I hate that you—"

But then he's cut off, and Parker's lips are on his again. He doesn't know what to do, how to even fucking _react_ to that, so he does the only thing he knows how to do: he wraps his arms around her waist, closes his eyes, opens his mouth, and enjoys the ride for what it's worth. Hey, he might be pissed, but he ain't stupid.

When they break he stares at her like she's some kind of freaking alien (which really, he's still convinced a little that she might be) and asks, "What the heck was that for?"

"So we can stop fighting," she tells him, like its fucking as simple as that. She tilts her head and asks him, "Does that work with everyone? Should I kiss more people?"

Oh god, his headache just turned into a migraine.

"Parker, that's not what I meant," he tells her. The last thing he needs is Parker randomly kissing him in front of Hardison to avoid a fight, cause all its gonna do is start another one.

Not that it was a bad kiss, and that he might enjoy doing it again but… just no. He ain't gonna do Hardison like that.

"But it worked," Parker tells him, not understanding.

"Yeah but…" Eliot tries, then stops. He has an idea. "Actually you know, it worked with me, but I think it's only gonna work once. So hey, when you fight with Hardison next time… why don't you kiss him?"

Parker put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "I'm not stupid, Eliot. I know what you're doing. And I can't kiss him."

"Why not?"

"Because I _like_ him."

Seriously? How in the hell did her perspective on kissing become so damn warped? Damn, he just can't deal with this right now.

"Look, I'll explain… hell, _life_ and how it works to you in a minute. Go in the living room, lemme rustle up some breakfast and then…" he just trailed off. He needs some aspirin. "Just lemme get breakfast, alright?"

"Okay," Parker says and smiles, and damn near skips off into the other room.

Man. How the hell he got himself in with all these crazy people, he has no idea.

**TBC…**


	8. The Backwards Logic

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
The Backwards Logic**

After Eliot had managed to make bacon and eggs without a fuss from Parker, though only because she was currently absorbed in the TV watching reruns of "Roseanne", he came back into the living room and handed her a plate. She didn't thank him, but she did have a big grin on her face as she grabs it out of his hands and starts chowing down. For how skinny Parker is, he never really would have pegged her for much of an eater, but she could challenge the best of them.

"Got any ketchup?"

"What the hell for?" Eliot asks. What the hell could you possibly put ketchup on on this plate?

"For the eggs," Parker tells him, like it's obvious. God. She's one of _those _people. The fucking weird ones who have to… he really doesn't get it. But he doesn't say anything, just points to the kitchen.

"They keep changing Becky's," Parker tells him as she comes back into the living room with the ketchup now on her eggs, pointing at the TV with her fork as she talks with her mouth full. She swallows before she finishes, "It confuses me."

Eliot has no idea what she's talking about. He has a TV, but that don't mean that he watches it. But he just says, "Yeah, that confused me too."

Whatever.

"I mean, they don't even _look _alike, they're both just blonde. Back and forth, back and forth. Changing. Always. I don't get it."

Neither does Eliot. He knows _of_ the show, but he never really watched it. But he takes a bite of his food and nods along with her. It seems to please her for the most part that he's taking part in the Becky discussion.

"I don't like the new girl, or the girl they keep switching. Whatever. She's not a very good Becky. She's not whiney."

Lord. Save him.

Parker's done with her food, freaking _already_, and is now staring at his plate like a hungry wolf. He just sighs and hands it to her. Whatever, he's lived off of less. She smiles are plunges into her new plate.

Might as well get this over with.

"Parker, you know, usually when you like someone you kiss them, not the other way around."

Parker stops eating, fork mid way to her mouth and looks at him. "That doesn't make any sense."

Eliot blinks. Seriously? Okay, deep breath. It's Parker. Some things just need a little more… pushing. But he opens his mouth, and he finds he has nothing else to say besides, "WHY?"

Parker takes another bite of her food, explaining herself between mouth fulls as she twirls her fork in the air. "Cause if you like someone and they don't like you then you did this thing that people think is, I don't know, intimate. But if you do it with someone you don't, it feels much better cause you're brain isn't going all…" and then her fork spazzes in the air. Eliot blinks again.

"Crazy?" he hazards a guess.

Parker swallows and nods. "So if I kiss him, I'll be all…" she does the fork thing again. "But when I kiss you, then I'm all…" she keeps the fork still. "And that makes me…" then she smiles.

Eliot rubs his temples. Okay, this clearly is going in the wrong direction. He wasn't trying to convince Parker she should kiss him more, he was trying to do the opposite! But he needs her to _get_ this, so he tries to get inside her head so he can talk to her in ways she can understand.

Oh, her head is a scary place.

"But sometimes when you kiss someone you like, and you get all…" he picks up his fork and mimics what she did, "it's a really good feeling. One of the best, or you know… whatever." Okay, that was awkward. "Plus, even if you like someone, it can still be…" he stilled his fork, "calming. Nice."

Parker seems to think about this for a moment, but then shrugs. "So then I don't know if I like someone just by the…?" she does the fork thing again. Okay, they seriously need to stop waving utensils around.

"No."

"So I might like you then?"

Eliot swears he had a brain a second ago. He's sure it just died. Again.

"No, Parker, that's not what I—" Why is this never going in the direction he wants it to? Seriously.

"So let me try it again," Parker interrupts, and for the love of _god_ is now practically on top of him. Oh, shit. He tries to back up, but he's against the edge of the couch and now Parker's pretty much on him.

"Parker, don't—"

But then her lips connect with his, and he can't think. God damnit. He kisses her back as much as she's giving him, which is only a little. But then he gets his sense back and pushes her away gently. "Parker, we seriously can't—"

"I wasn't done," Parker tells him, in that little factual way that she does that totally dismisses anyone else around her. Her lips are on his again, and he can feel himself start to let go. The hand that was on her arm to push her away tangles in her blonde hair as he pulls her closer to her. And then because of whatever the hell cruel joke God's playing on him, suddenly her tongues in his mouth, and it's just fucking over.

"Damnit," he mumbles against her lips as he pulls her up to be more on top of him, needing her body pressed into his. He ain't even thinking about what's going on, he just can't. He can't think about how it's Parker of all fucking people, he can't think about how she's actually managed to turn him on, this damn weird girl managing to get him a little hard, and he damn sure can't form a thought about anyone else right now, like Hardison. At least… not right now.

"Mmm," she moans softly against his lips, and that was it for his dick. It was up and ready to make it's grand debut to her. He pushes into her, making her sit up a little as he kisses her more roughly. She's got a hold of his shirt now, in her delicate little hands, and her tongue is so damn skilled all he can think about is how it might feel against his cock.

But that thought right there jolts him out of whatever haze he was in, and he breaks the kiss. "Parker, stop. We can't be doin' all this." His dick isn't happy with that plan, but whatever.

She's breathing a bit heavy, and for the love of _everything,_ she subconsciously licks her bottom lip slightly. God, he's in hell. "Why not? I liked it."

Shit, he did too. That's a mind fuck and a half.

"Hardison."

God, that right there just made him feel wicked guilty. Shit.

"But I like him."

"Exactly."

"And so do you."

"Exa—wait, hold on. No," Eliot tells her. Dude, he almost got tricked into that one. That was sneaky.

"Yes you do. And if I like him, and you like him, doesn't that mean we should like each other?"

What in the…? Where the hell does Parker get her logic?

"No, that means you should go be with him and I'll…" Okay, he didn't know what the hecks he's gonna do. Go find himself another broad to entertain himself with for a night.

Shit. He is a slut.

"I can't be with him, I like him," Parker tells him, for the millionth time.

"But you just said you liked me too, so you can't be doing this with me either," Eliot tells her, just trying to find a way to make this stop before it goes any further.

"I didn't say that, I said I might. I don't know, I wasn't finished kissing you yet," Parker tells him, and tries to lean in again, but he doesn't let her get that far this time.

"Weren't you just screaming at me earlier over Hardison? This doesn't make any fuckin' sense, Parker," Eliot tells her, frustrated all to hell now. Because hell, it didn't! He doesn't care if Parker has backwards logic, it's still fucked up!

"You can't have him," she repeats. Great, because that just answered his question. Sure.

"And yet you can't have him either, so what? You think you can just have me as consolation prize?" Eliot asks her, now offended. He is _not_ second best.

Parker's just looking at him like he's crazy. He feels the need to stick a damn mirror in her face so that just for once she can look that way to someone who actually deserves it. "No, I was just trying to see if I liked you, and if I did, then no more kissing. If I don't, then there can be sex."

Oh, for the love of shit.

"Parker, I am not, let me repeat, am _not_ going to sleep with you, especially because if you did it would be because you don't like me. I mean, what the fuck is that? Seriously."

"Eliot, if you don't understand it, I'm not going to explain it to you."

"Get off of me." He's so done with this.

"But I'm not done—"

"Trust me, Parker. You're done. You're more than done. Off. Now."

Parker narrows her eyes, but climbs off of him. Eliot runs his fingers through his hair, fixing what she messed up with her little fucking game, and looks at the TV. He just needed to not look at her right now. She's so fucking screwed up in the head, and he can't play these damn games.

Fuck, he missed Hardison. Even with all the gay shit, it wasn't half as confusing as this.

Then the doorbell rings. Of course.

Parkers off the couch and up to answer it before Eliot can tell her to fucking fix herself properly and look presentable. But when she opens the door and Hardison's on the other side of it, she smiles and waves. "Hi."

"Hey," Hardison says as he comes inside, apparently not noticing anything wrong, thank god. "Didn't know you'd be here."

"She carved a freaking pumpkin and was loitering in my kitchen," Eliot tells him evenly. Hardison smirks and looks over at Eliot then, but then when both boys lock eyes, the awkwardness begins. Both of them just remembered their conversation the night before. Eliot clears his throat. "Parker, close the door. Don't need it open for the damn world to see."

Parker rolls her eyes but closes the door. "Wanna see my pumpkin?" she asks Hardison.

"Sure."

Parker skips off into the kitchen, and Hardison and Eliot are left looking at each other. Eliot squirms uncomfortably in his seat. Not only was he in an awkward position because of what happened between _them_, now he's in an awkward position because of what also happened with _Parker._

"Didn't know she'd be here… came to, you know. Finish, or whatever," Hardison tells him as he folds his arms into himself.

"Makes you feel any better, when I woke up I didn't know she'd be here either," Eliot tells him.

Parker comes back out, proudly presenting her pumpkin to Hardison. "You like it?" she asks, all smiles. How the hell she can go to making out with Eliot one minute and then acting completely natural the next, Eliot has no idea.

Makes him wonder who else she's done this to.

"That's a lovely…" Hardison tries, trying to figure out what it is, but apparently he can't either so he finishes with, "It's nice, Parker." Parker beams at him.

"Eliot's always so grumpy I thought decorations would help him be… ungrumpy." She places the pumpkin on the coffee table now and smiles at it. Eliot glowers. He is _not_ grumpy.

"Good idea," Hardison tells her, just agreeing with her. Stupid idiot.

There's silence for a little while before Hardison says, "Hey, Parker? I gotta talk to Eliot for a minute."

"Okay," Parker says, and sits down on the couch. The girl obviously can't take a hint, buts that's never anything new.

"Alone, if you don't mind," Hardison tries. Parker looks at him like that doesn't make any sense. But clearly nothing in the _real _world makes any sense to her.

Parker narrowed her eyes, upset with not being included. "FINE," she says, and gets up. "I'll be in Eliot's bedroom if you need me."

"Not in my—" Eliot tries, but doesn't get very far. She's already gone. Aw, fuck it. He already has everything he doesn't want her to see in his storage.

Hardison takes a deep breath then, and looks down at Eliot. Eliot pats the seat next to him kind of awkwardly. Man, he really didn't want to do this. But he was looking at him, and just feeling so damn _guilty _about Parker that he couldn't just tell him no. Can't tell him not now. Can't tell him he doesn't want to do this.

Shit. He's so gonna kill Parker later.

**TBC…**


	9. The Helping Hand

**CHAPTER NINE  
The Helping Hand**

"So I guess we should…"

"Talk."

"Yeah."

Silence. What the hell was he supposed to say? Eliot didn't know how to start this conversation for the life of him. Obviously he's not going to tell him he liked kissing him because it was _him._ He's not even going to entertain the idea that he actually might like him a little more than he's been letting on. Because hell, this whole gay thing is obviously some kind of fluke. Just a passing attraction that'll die just like everything else. And hopefully like his apparent attraction to Parker will.

God. He made camp in denial, didn't he?

"You start," Hardison tells him.

"Me? Why me?" Eliot asks. Hell no.

"Fine, I'll start," Hardison says, like he's annoyed with him. But they were always annoyed with each other, weren't they? Except when they were all attached at the… fucking mouth. Jesus.

Eliot still wants to kiss him again. Like that stupid little bird in your ear that's chirping softly, but so much that you kinda just want to just grab it and squeeze it's neck till it pops.

He seriously is in so much shit, here. This was not how his life was supposed to pan out. Hell, actually by his calculations he should have been dead three years ago.

"I still think you're an asshole," Hardison tells him, and Eliot narrows his eyes. Well, that wasn't what he was expecting. But Hardison isn't done. "But you're… I don't know, man. There's something that I… Okay, uh, right. Maybe I might like… _you_, just… a little. But maybe it's just cause you were the first guy I kissed, and it's all just some weird… whatever. But maybe, okay? Yeah. A little." A pause. "Your turn."

His turn? Already?

Okay, maybe part of him wasn't expecting Hardison to admit that maybe he… that he _did_… whatever, a little. Hell, a large part of him hoped he wouldn't, so Eliot wouldn't have to. And while normally he'd be all 'fuckin' whatever' about it, he was feeling so damn guilty that he couldn't just lie to him. He's already gonna have to lie about what happened with Parker for freaking _ever._

Shit.

What if this starts something? Then what? He doesn't wanna do it on a regular basis. Well, okay, maybe it wouldn't be _horrible _if it happened, but then what if it was supposed to turn into more? He is not, repeat, is _not_ going to have Hardison's dick up his ass.

Christ. Now he has a mental picture, and it… okay, he's not even admitting that in his head right now.

"Eliot?"

"What?" Eliot says, annoyed. "Shut up, I'm thinking."

Hardison rolls his eyes, but looks uncomfortable with the long silence after he just admitted that, so Eliot knows he has to say something, and fast. "I dunno what it is, okay? But I keep wanting to fuckin'… shit. I keep wanting to…"

Damnit, why can't he say it?!

"Want to what?" Hardison asks, and Eliot swears he just got a little closer to him. Holy hell. "Eliot? Want to what?"

"I keep wanting to fuckin' kiss you, alright?" Eliot tells him in a growl, then, "Breathe a word of that to anyone and I'll kill you."

That makes Hardison smirk a little, just a slight curve of his lips. But then they're looking at each other, and its just fucking silent again. Eliot is seriously learning to hate silence. It's like something's supposed to happen, hell, both of them know what logically comes next, but neither of them are taking the first move. And while Eliot does want to kiss Hardison, he _does_, and damnit to hell that it's getting easier to admit that, he doesn't want to kiss Parker and kiss Hardison on the same damn couch within twenty minutes of each other. Something with that doesn't sit well with him.

"Hey you guys, I—" Parker starts as she comes into the room, but stops as she looks at the two men. A long pause as she just stares at them, then she accuses, "You guys were about to kiss!"

Oh, someone freaking shoot him in the face now.

"No, Parker, will you just—" Eliot tries, but she seems torn between furious over it and yet still slightly giddy by the thought. God. He really doesn't want to have to deal with this right now.

"Yes you were! That's exactly how you looked when you—"

"PARKER!" Eliot interrupts, trying to make her just shut the _hell _up before she gets him in trouble. "We're not, just fuckin'… look, there's a couple grand underneath my mattress, go play with it. Hell, keep it."

He's not sure he wants to keep his money after Parker 'plays with it' anyway.

"I can have it?" she asks, smiling. Successfully distracted, thank god.

"Yeah, go," Eliot tells her, and she's sprints off, back into the bedroom. God, one disaster avoided. Now…

"What did she mean, when you did what?" Hardison asks, who was just curious, not accusing since he didn't seem to put it together. But Eliot doesn't want to have to explain, doesn't want to fucking _do_ all this right now. He doesn't know how to talk his way out of this, and hell maybe he just doesn't want to. So instead he does what he _does_ want to do, though still not on this couch. But whatever.

"Just shut up, Hardison," Eliot tells gruffly before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Hell, if it distracts him away from that, it's all good. Him liking it is just a bonus.

Hardison seems shocked for a second, but then Eliot can feel his body relax as he starts to push softly into him. Eliot can feel the man's hands tangling in his hair, and it makes Eliot softly growl against his bottom lip. He kisses him harder, more passionately, better than either of them have ventured to do before with each other, though maybe only because this time it wasn't just to get out of a situation, or solve one. This time, both of them admitted they wanted it, and that just made it so much… hotter. Shit.

He seriously needs to stop kissing his coworkers. There _was_ a time where he didn't shit where he ate.

It's Eliot's turn to be the one sliding to be on top, just cause he doesn't want Hardison to stop and think about what Parker might have meant. He's pushing him back slowly against the edge of the couch, and his hand slides down his cut stomach before resting just above the lining of his jeans. That seems to make Hardison almost shiver, maybe in anticipation, even though Eliot's sure he's not going to…

Okay, maybe he's curious… but he's_ not_ going to…

But then Hardison's lips are off of his, and Eliot's worried that he put two and two together and figured out the fucked up truth. But then the lips are on his neck, and Eliot closes his eyes as his fingers dig into his flesh. Shit, that feels good. Hardison's almost up to his ear now, and he can feel his ragged breath against his ear, and god he just wants him to_ touch _him.

Holy hell. This is so not good.

"Hardison, hold up…" Eliot tells him breathlessly, and pulls away from him. God, he both loves and hates this day at the same time.

"Jesus, Eliot," Hardison says, annoyed, and pushes himself out from underneath him. "You're gonna be all 'I'm not gay' again, aren't you? Can't you just—"

"Will you let me fuckin' talk for once without assuming shit? Damn," Eliot tells him, equally annoyed. Hell, the man _never_ lets him saying a damn word. "We just can't be doin' all this right now. Parker's in there."

"Parker likes it," Hardison tells him, and Eliot narrows his eyes. He is not going to be used by him as a tool to get Parker horny.

"No, man. You like her and I ain't gonna be this… whatever," Eliot tells him. He's sick of both of them. He means, shit, both of them want to make out with him right? And yet they're all pining over each other. He is not gonna be second best to either of them, that's all kinds of fucked up. Even if he likes kissing him… and hell, her too, it just ain't…

"Parker… she…" Hardison starts, then sighs. Eliot just looks at him, waiting for him to come up with this brilliant fucking answer he thinks he has if he thinks he can just keep kissing him like that. "I can't wait around forever for her. I like her, trust me man, I really fucking like her. I do. And maybe one day it'll happen, but it ain't gonna be anytime close to now, I know that."

He has a point, but still.

"Just trust me when I say we shouldn't do this around her anymore," Eliot tells him. He meant to say ever. Not do it anymore EVER… but somehow it came out just anymore. Damnit.

"But she said she liked—"

"She doesn't," Eliot tells him. "Just, she don't, okay? Why she came over. She likes it, a little yeah, but it's weird for her."

"Shit," Hardison says, and sighs as he leans back on to couch. "I knew she'd be weird with me liking guys, it's gonna fuck up everything…"

"No," Eliot tells him. Shit, he hates this. Why the hell does he have to be the one that does this? Why is he stuck in the middle? He's not a friggin' marriage councilor. "She just thinks it's weird… with… me."

"You? Why you?"

"How the hell should I know? I don't venture into Parker's brain. She just thinks its weird with me, maybe cause she knows me. So let's just… ease off, for a bit, here… okay?"

Hell, he needs to ease off anyway. He wanted Hardison to_ touch_ him. No good can come out of that, obviously. Well alright, there would be good, fuckin' clearly, but in the long run its just… bad. Plus he still has Parker to deal with, he's not sure if he made it clear that the kissing has to stop. Parker doesn't get things as quickly as other people do.

"Should I talk to her?" Hardison asks.

"Just leave it, seriously," Eliot tells him. Hardison just looks at him for a long time until he nods. Then he looks down and checks the time on his cell phone.

"I gotta go, Nate wants me to research potential clients," Hardison tells him, and starts to get up. He looks towards Eliot's bedroom. "Take care of her, alright? Make sure she isn't 'relapsing' or whatever, with the money. Sophie will have a fit."

"Yeah, sure," Eliot tells him, and walks with him to the door. He opens it for him, as after Hardison passes him with a goodbye, he doesn't close it. He just stands there, maybe because he knew it was coming, or maybe just cause he hoped it was coming. But Hardison was back in an instant, his lips on his one more time for a searing kiss. When they break, Hardison smiles, and hell, Eliot may even have a little hint of one on his lips when he says, "Later, man."

After Eliot closes the front door, he goes to check on Parker in his room, hoping to go she didn't tear the place apart or anything. He was mildly surprised to find her on his bed, money spread out all around her as she pets it softly.

When she looks up at him, she isn't happy like he thought she would be. Instead she looks devastated. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. "Parker…"

"You kissed him," Parker says softly, upset. She touches the money delicately, as if she's afraid she'll break it. He knew this was a bad idea, hell, all of this. Parker's always curious, why didn't he think that she might come back?

"He likes you," Eliot tells her, just trying like hell to make this not be a complete disaster. Parker yelling was one thing, but he doesn't think he can handle Parker looking like she's gonna cry. "A lot, Parker. He fuckin' likes you a lot, okay? I'm just… right now, I think he just needs someone to help him through his… whatever he's going through. The gay part, alright? It ain't anything."

Parker purses her lips together and gathers up some of the cash before holding it close to her chest. "You're helping him?" she asks.

"Yeah. I guess. Trying." Eliot pauses, and sighs as he admits, "He's helping me too, I guess. Whatever. Because I think I might—"

Okay, he isn't finishing that sentence.

"Are you going to have sex with him?"

"No, Parker. Would it help if I said a 'hell' and a 'no'? Trust me, it ain't gonna happen, darlin'. I'm more likely to sleep with fuckin'… _you_, then him." Not that he needs that in his life either. Wants, maybe, but not needs.

"So only kissing?"

"Only kissing."

There's a pause, and then Parker's looking up at him again, seemingly more relaxed. "That's okay then. If you need to help him then you should. But don't… don't steal, okay?"

"I won't steal from you, swear," Eliot tells her, and that makes Parker smile.

"Okay," she says, accepting it. Eliot still doesn't know why. But hell, he doesn't understand anything that's been coming out of Parker's mouth this morning. "Let's play with the money now. Would you like to be the mayor," she holds up one crisp hundred dollar bill, "Or one of the towns folk?" Eliot blinks. Is she seriously trying to play with her money like a kid would play with dolls? Yeah, maybe she _did_ have a bit of a problem.

"How about we put this up and we can go watch some more Roseanne and you can tell me more about Becky."

Parker thinks about that for a moment, then shrugs, apparently finding it a suitable alternative. "Okay, come on."

Eliot follows her, trying to just let life play out how it's gonna play out… but all he can think about is how screwed up he's made. The worst part? He doesn't even know how it all started anymore, he just already knows he's neck deep in it.

**TBC…**


	10. The Possible Mistake

**A/N:** And this is where that "T" rating flew right out the window.... lol

**CHAPTER TEN  
The Possible Mistake**

Eliot had one whole day of peace. A whole twenty four hours until someone had to come in and make with the head screwing again. While he figured it would be Hardison, mainly because Eliot did pretty much all but verbalize his acceptance on the matter, at least to him, Nate's been working them around the clock, dealing with a job that involves a corrupt Mayor and a whole shit load of heroin. So they haven't had much time to see each other, let alone talk or do, you know, whatever else that they would do.

The difference between Parker and Hardison? Hardison _respects _his space. He'll knock, ring the doorbell, call… whatever. Parker? Parker just fucking shows up standing next to your bed and gives you a heart attack.

Which was exactly what happened. Minus the heart attack, and plus him grabbing her arm and pulling her down on the bed and pinning her down, arms behind her back. She's damn near fucking lucky he didn't dislocate something, because all he saw of her when he woke up was a shadow. He didn't realize who he had underneath him until Parker yelled, "Ow! ELIOT!"

"Parker??" Eliot sleepily grumbles as he lets her go and flops back down on his back on the bed and rubs his eyes. God damnit, he only gets a few hours of sleep at night, he really didn't need her here right now. "Go away," he mumbles.

But she doesn't, though he wasn't really expecting it to be that easy. Instead she brushes herself off and sits up, right next to him on the bed. She's looking down at him, and Eliot covers his eye with his forearm. God damnit all to hell.

"I need to talk to you," she tells him.

"Jesus. What? It's fuckin'…" he looks over at his bedside clock, "Three fourty five in the damn morning."

"I keep having these dreams," she tells him, and he lets out a breath and tries very hard not to roll his eyes. If she came over here cause she's having nightmares, he's gonna scream. Does he look like her daddy? Crawl into bed and…

Lord. He's not finishing that sentence.

"What dreams?" he plays along, because hell, he knows that if he doesn't than it's gonna take longer to get her to leave.

"I don't want to tell you," she says. Yeah, he already wants to hit something.

"Then why the fuck did you—?"

"I just wanna sleep with you… please?"

Shit. Normally he'd say no, get the hell out of my house, and just roll over and pass out for another hour… but it's the way she _said _it. So damn vulnerable. He really hates that he gives a shit sometimes. But he was tired, and he didn't want to argue, so he lifts up the covers as a sign of acceptance. She smiles and climbs in next to him.

Great, that's over with. Time to get some shut eye.

They both lay in bed for awhile, until Eliot starts to realize how much closer she's getting to him. Their legs were touching now, and Eliot was about to tell he to keep to her side of the bed when finally she lays her head on his chest and puts her arm around him. Okay, this is too close. And when the hell did Parker get so…. _touchy?_ Last he remembered, she didn't touch people, nor want people to touch her.

"Parker… too close."

"Why? Cause you're naked?"

Yeah, that would definitely be the first reason why she's too close. Not like he cares about sharing a bed with her while he's naked, it's how he sleeps for Christ's sake, but the touching is doing nothing to avoid his morning hard on. That, and in her flimsy little tank top and tiny panties, it's making him… anxious.

"Yes, so move."

"I don't mind," she mumbles sleepily in his chest. But then she shifts her legs, bringing one up to tangle in his other two, and something that he really wasn't sure he ever wanted touching Parker was now touching her thigh.

"Parker, seriously."

"Be quiet, I'm trying to sleep."

"PARKER!"

That makes Parker move, but only slightly. She's not touching his balls anymore with her thigh, and instead of having her head on her chest its lifted up so she can glare at him. "What's your problem?"

"_My_ problem? Since when the hell did you decide you want human contact? And more than that, what in shit's name makes you think it's okay to be groping my nuts with your thigh?" He was frustrated. More than frustrated. Now sexually frustrated.

"I wasn't _groping _you, I was just… there. Besides, I was reading this book…"

Oh no.

"…and it said to gain a meaningful romantic relationships with someone, cause I think I wanna start trying to get that place where I can with Hardison, it said that sometimes it can be easier to start out getting closer to your friends. So I'm close. With the touching, see?" Parker explains to him.

"I don't think that's what it meant, Parker." Man, why in the hell does this have to be happening with him? She's got other friends. Can't she go harass Sophie in bed while she's naked?

Oh damn, that just encouraged his hard on. The bed sheets were looking awfully funny, which he's not embarrassed about, but it's weird that Parker doesn't even seem to care that his dick is rock fucking hard next to her either.

"Of course that's what it meant. Can we sleep now?"

Eliot's annoyed, tired, and doesn't care anymore what he says to this girl since everything seems to fucking slide off of her like oil and water anyway. "Parker, seriously, you see me right now? I'm fuckin' horny. It's an ungodly hour in the morning, I'm pissed off, and I need to fuckin' cum. So you? You need to leave cause you're not helping. Lemme jack off in peace. If you really need to stay, then sleep on my damn couch."

There. He told her.

"I don't like the couch."

Really? All he says to her and _that's_ what she responds to? Regardless.

"I don't give a shit. Get. Out."

"No, I can help," she tells him. "The book tells me I should help out my friends, to better learn to give and take in a relationship."

"You are not 'helping out' with this problem," Eliot tells her, but his voice falters because his dicks excited by the thought. His hand is under the covers already, slightly stroking his shaft delicately with his fingers. He can't help it, its like they have a fuckin' homing device.

"No, look, really, I can. Watch," she tells him, and grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up over her head, exposing her breasts to him. It took everything in his power not to grab his dick and just go to town.

"Parker, you… fuck, get out, for the love of everything, just get out of my room. Put back on your… yeah, right, put back on your shirt and just go," Eliot tells her, his voice strangled, distracted as he stares at her tits.

Damn this morning.

What makes this so much worse is Parker's complete disregard to the intimacy of this situation. She's looking at it logically, in that logical way that's really not very logical, and is just trying to help. She's seeing a situation, knows how to make it better, and is trying to do it. But the thing that makes it just… so fucked up, is that she's addressing the situation just like she would if she was trying to help him bake a cake.

Not that he'd ever let her near his kitchen to cook.

"Just go, do it. Then we can sleep. I can take off my underwear if it helps, but I want to sleep with you tonight, so just finish please."

Does Parker even _listen_ to what's coming out of her mouth? Does she ever stop to think that 'hey, maybe I shouldn't say that'? Obviously not. And the panties comment made him grasp his dick finally, which was damn near screaming at him to just fuckin' satisfy it. His resolve is breaking, he can tell, but damnit if he's going to… no, he just can't do this. He can't masturbate while staring at Parker naked next to him.

That's just… NO.

Yes. God yes.

_NO._ Damnit!

"Parker…" he warns again, but that seems to be the only thing he can get out at this moment. He's crumbling.

"I know how to do it if you don't," Parker tells him as she peers at the unmoving sheet. She seriously needs to stop trying to help! Now he's got thoughts of her…

God, he can't take advantage of her like this. She just don't _know._ She doesn't understand anything!

"We have to be close, Eliot. So please do it."

"Parker! You don't understand… fuckin' anything, do you?! I'm not going to take advantage of you just because you don't know—"

"I know what I'm doing," Parker tells him, offended now. And apparently more determined. "I'm not a child," she tells him, and then looks at him with this look that just _dares_ him to argue as she slides off her panties. "We are going to get close, Eliot."

This is too close. This is way too close. His hand is moving now, just slightly. Shit, she had… an amazing fucking body.

"I'm not naïve," she continues as she gets up on her knees in front of him, giving him a closer look. Shit, he's fucking dying. His cock is fucking screaming at him now. "I know what I'm doing, I know what this is. I'm just trying to help you because you're my _friend,_ and because I need to learn, and well, I'd like to sleep too. In this bed."

Learn WHAT?! Fuck, it didn't matter anymore, he's just done. No matter how hard he tries, how strong his resolve is, he can't have a hot naked woman begging him to masturbate in his bed for very long before he starts to do it. His hand is going faster, stroking his shaft with skilled precision, and he's so damn horny he can feel the blood pulsing through it like his life depended on it being erect.

"Good," she tells him, as she notices what he's doing. "Now hurry up, I wanna sleep with you."

God, he fucking hates her. He fucking hates his life. He fucking hates… everything. This is so screwed up, but no one can say he didn't try, damnit. He grunts softly as he stares at her pussy, that's so close to his face he can almost smell her.

Shit, she was fuckin' beautiful. She's watching the sheets move around as he works himself off, and he watches her hand that's next to her thigh move up, only just slightly, to brush across her clit.

Fuck, he was done.

He cums with a loud grunt, and then lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He closes his eyes. God, he needed that. He ain't even gonna think about how that happened, it just did. Shit. Bad decisions. It's all her fucking fault.

"Thank you," she tells him with a smile, and slides back under the covers and curls up next to him like nothing happened. How does she…? How can she…? Fuck, this woman is going to be the death of him.

But it's over, he's tired, and he really just wants to go to sleep. He really doesn't even care that she's laying practically on top of him again. She's naked, still, and yeah that doesn't make for the most relaxing of circumstances, but hell… he just came and now it's time to pass the fuck out.

But nothing is ever that simple.

He's almost asleep when she whispers in his ear in a way that makes a shiver go all the way down his spine, "Eliot?"

"Mmm?" Eliot mumbles, still not opening his eyes.

"I'm wet now."

Okay, that made him open his eyes. No, not again. Once was bad enough, this whole fucking past week of his life is bad enough, but she can't seriously expect him to…? Then again, it's Parker, he doesn't know what she's expecting. He has half a mind to tell her to take care of it herself, but he doesn't think he can just lay her and sleep while she does.

"Okay…" is all he says. He doesn't know what the hell to say to that.

"See?" she tells him softly as she lifts one of her legs to wrap around his and presses herself against his thigh.

Yeah, okay he fucking sees. Feels. Whatever.

He's in hell. But a nice kind of hell. One that makes your dick hard while it destroys your life.

"Is this your way of seducing me? Cause I have to say, it's pretty fucked up. All of this," Eliot tells her gruffly, and wishes she would move herself off her leg as much as he wishes she wouldn't. "And I'm not having sex with you."

Because that would screw his life up even more.

"I was just saying," Parker tells him. She shifts her body against her thigh and lets out this little sound, barely even a sound, but a sound none the less.

Yup. Hell? Hello.

"Sleep, Parker," Eliot tells her, but his voice is coming out funny, and all of his senses seem to be focusing on how hot and wet her pussy is against his thigh.

"Just… hold still," she tells him, and presses herself more against his thigh. "Mmph…" Aw, hell no. No she so _isn't_ going to do this.

"Parker, don't do th—" he starts to say, but now she's rocking her hips, grinding her tiny pussy against his thigh, and letting out these quiet gasps next to his ear. Shit… his dick is ready for round two. "Parker, just fuckin'—"

"My turn," Parker tells him, and he can feel the hand that she has resting on her stomach start to curl her fingers as she grabs a hold of his hip. "Mmm…" she moans again, this time louder. Eliot just can't handle this, he's only human after all. She's becoming the biggest tease he's ever met in his entire life, and he just can't fucking handle it. He tried, god damnit he tried _so damn hard_. But it's just over.

He's so gonna let this woman cum all over his fucking leg even if he has to die trying.

His hand is on his cock again, and he pushes his thigh harder into her, making her gasp and dig her nails into his skin. "Put your finger on your clit," he gruffly tells her, "But stay where you are." Parker whimpers slightly, this fucking whimper that drives him crazy, and he can feel her slide her hand between where her pussy and his thigh met. When he feels her put some pressure on it, he starts moving his leg against her more roughly.

"Oh god…" she gasps out, tickling his ear with her breathless words. He's working on himself as hard as he's working on her, and moans himself when he feels Parker's hand snake up to wrap around his, guiding it up and down his cock in a way that made his senses fucking explode.

Hell, it ain't sex if it's slightly hands on mutual masturbation, right?

Parker's positioning herself so she's sitting up more against his leg, until she's completely over him, her blonde hair tumbling around her face as she bites her lower lip and looks down at him. She gives him this dirty little smile before she starts guiding his hand to go slower. Eliot makes a sound of grumpy sexually frustrated protest, but she tells him breathlessly, "I'm not ready yet."

Did she want them to do it at the same time? Okay, maybe he can wait for that.

"Come here, darlin'," Eliot scratchy voice growls at her while motioning her to lay more on top of him. When she's close enough he wraps his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her closer to him, his lips colliding with hers. There is no softness, not anymore. They're kissing each other, panting against each others lips as they grow closer to the edge.

"God, Eliot…" she moans softly against his bottom lip, and then she starts to move to straddle him, while pushing his hand off of his cock.

No, no sex.

No sex, no sex, no sex. He _can't…_

Shit, he can't stop it. Can't even speak a word against it before she slides herself down around him. They don't even have a condom, but he just can't fucking_ think_ anymore. "Fuck, Parker… Jesus…" Eliot pants out. Her pussy was so tight around him, and she squeezes her muscles, making him groan in approval. Her lips are now on his neck and she bites him softly as he thrusts into her hard, making her gasp out a half scream as she grabs a fist full of his hair.

"Fuck me, Eliot!" she pleads desperately into his ear, and hell if he ain't. He starts slamming into her harder, making her emit the sexiest sounds he thinks he's ever heard being voiced by another human being as she uses her arms to hoist herself up to a sitting position so she can ride him. Her tiny breasts are bouncing as he thrusts into her as hard as she'll take, which hell, he's fucking happy to find out she can take A LOT. "Oh _god,_ Eliot… God, don't stop…"

"Ain't plannin' on it, baby," Eliot tells her between grunts of his own. He brings his hands up to hold her hips to steady her, make her stop trying to do it herself. This was his party; she was just the guest of honor. When he finally makes her stop, it's all him and Parker cries out and slams her fist down against his chest hard, which just encourages him more. Her eyes are shut tight, she's sweating, gasping, fuckin' naked and beautiful on top of him.

Then her hand is between her legs, and she's fingering her clit in a way that most women would just explode from within three seconds. But she's gasping harder now, panting his name through ragged breathes and as finally feels her start to contract around him, he closes his eyes and lets out one last grunt as he thrusts into her for the final time before they both cum, Parker screaming on top of him before she collapses against his chest.

It's probably ten minutes before either of them say anything. But the first thing that comes out of Eliot's mouth, breathless and tiered, "Tell me you're on fuckin' birth control."

"No," she tells him softly, and he almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips it around to look at her. He is not, NOT going to— "I can't have kids," she tells him, with this weird tone of voice.

Shit. Eliot's pretty sure he doesn't want to know how that happened, not with the way she said it. At least, not right now.

"Goodnight, Eliot," Parker says softly as she snuggles closer to him and drifts off to sleep. Exhausted and spent, it doesn't take long to fall asleep either, even though he knows he's gonna regret this in the morning.

**TBC…**


	11. The Guilt

**CHAPTER ELEVEN  
The Guilt**

He had sex with Parker.

_He_ had _sex_ with _Parker._

PARKER!

When he woke up the next morning she was already gone, but a piece of paper lay on his bed with one sentence scrawled across it in her scribbled handwriting: "That was fun."

Eliot sighs in frustration, mostly with himself, and collapses back against his bed and puts the covers over his head. God damnit. What did he do??

He wasn't stupid; he knew something wasn't right with Parker, especially in a romantic and sexual way. He's pretty damn sure that within a week he'll be hunting down the bastard or bastards that made her this way. But it makes him feel guilty, fucking horribly guilty. He took advantage of her, plain and simple. It doesn't matter what she did, he just should have had more control than that.

Parker's so… eager to please. Like a child, trying to make friends on the play ground, except she can never say or do the right thing. She was the kid who wanted to play with everyone and no one wanted to play with her. She was the kid that when someone came along that did want to play with her, they fucking took advantage of her and screwed her up all to hell. At least, that's what he can only assume. She was withdrawn forever, only now starting to warm up again, and she's back to being that eager kid again, only trapped in this adult body with her adult thinking.

Okay, now he's feeling like a child molester, he seriously needs to stop.

Shit. And what about Hardison?

Not only did he just fuck the woman he's in love with, and whether he admits it or not, Eliot knows he is… but he… he… he…. Fuck. Honestly? He's got more emotional feeling type _crap_ for Hardison than he does for Parker. God, he hates that he realized that, especially now. Now he feels like he fuckin' betrayed him, in more ways than one.

His phone rings, and Eliot grabs it before putting it to his ear and asking, "What?"

"Get over here," Nate tells him, and then the line goes dead. God damnit. He looks at the clock. Yup, late. Damn Parker.

He's at Nate's place within the hour, and when he walks in Nate's glaring at him. "Is it so hard to be here on time?"

"Overslept," Eliot tells him with a glare back and walks to the couch and sits down on it heavily. Running his fingers through his hair he looks at the screen where Hardison is doing… hell, some kind of geek thing. Shit, he has a headache. He can't even look at Hardison, just one glance made him feel like he was gonna throw up.

Sophie's smirking at him from over in her little chair. Damnit, he swears that woman can fucking _smell _when he gets laid. "Who with this time?" she asks, like she actually has the privilege to know about his sex life.

"None of your business," Eliot growls. He glances at Parker, who's coming out of the kitchen with a bowl filled with cereal, who just swallowed her last bite like it was made of rocks.

Fuckin' finally the girl has a conscience.

"You had sex last night?" Hardison asks, turning away from the screen to look at him like he just did something _wrong. _Which he did, he did something so damn wrong he can't even begin to explain, but Hardison doesn't know that. So why is he…?

"No!"

But it wasn't Eliot who answered, it was Parker, and all eyes turn to her. Eliot tries very hard not to facepalm. Sophie's looking at her like she couldn't believe what she was hearing, because that damn woman hears more than what's being said, but Hardison's just looking at her quizzically. Nate? Nate never cares. He's over in the corner grumbling about how sex talk is not work.

"No, he didn't…" Parker says, though it's coming out in the awkward pitch. "Because he was with me last night. I had a nightmare."

Sophie isn't fooled, and Eliot knows he's in deep shit by the way she's looking at him right now. Hardison on the other hand, seems to be. He laughs. "And there ain't no way those two would." He turns back to his computer, still chuckling to himself.

Eliot flashes his eyes at Parker and sets his jaw, and she gives him a little helpless look before wandering back off into the kitchen to sit on the bar stool, away from everything. Damnit. Now he has to deal with…

"Eliot, can you show me that Ninjitsu technique again, since everyone's gathering intel right now?" Sophie asks him. Eliot looks up at her, and even though she said it in the most casual way, her eyes flash like 'get your ass up now, this isn't up for discussion'. Shit.

"Yeah, come on," Eliot says resentfully, and picks himself up off of the couch before crossing into the other room with Sophie. After he closes the door behind her, Sophie's little mask of acting like everything's normal slips away to reveal someone very, very angry.

"You slept with Parker," she states. She doesn't ask, she just _knows._

"What? No!" Eliot denies, even though he's pretty sure it's pointless. He walks away from her, looking at her like she's insane for ever thinking that, and looks out the window instead.

"Eliot, this isn't some bloody game of yours. Parker is not some normal girl that you can just… take as some sort of _conquest!"_

"She was the one—!" Eliot starts, angry and rounding on her. How dare she fucking think that he would do that to her! Like he doesn't understand Parker's different. Jesus hell. "Look, it wasn't my idea, okay? And I fucking wish it didn't happen. So just shut up, for the love of ishit/i don't tell Hardison, and we can all get on with our damn lives."

"Eliot, this is serious!" Sophie tells him, eyes flashing. "What if she becomes attached to you?"

"_I don't know!" _Eliot growls, just plain furious now. "And frankly I'm sick of you blaming me; you don't know what the hell even happened."

"Then enlighten me."

"Go buy a dirty magazine."

"ELIOT!"

"What?!" Eliot yells, glad for once that they enabled sound proofing in the apartment to keep a lower profile. "She fucking got naked in front of me! Started masturbating right on top of me, and just… damnit, Sophie! What the hell was I supposed to do?!"

"You could have said no!"

"I did!" Eliot cried, just frustrated beyond hell at this point. "I said no a fucking million times, but she just didn't stop, okay?! I'm only human! I can only take so DAMN much!"

Sophie just stares at him, still furious with him, and she lets out a breath. "You screwed up."

"Thanks, not like I haven't been beating myself up over it all morning anyway, thanks for the damn icing on the cake, sweetheart."

"You're supposed to be supporting Hardison right now with what he's going through," Sophie tells him. "And even if he likes men, everyone with eyes knows he's in love with Parker. And you… you _slept _with her, Eliot."

"I AM supporting him, damnit! You have no idea how much I've been _supporting_ him, so just shut up about shit you don't know! Shit, Sophie!"

"What do you mean?" Sophie asks, and then she blinks, and looks at him shocked. _"Did you sleep with him too?!"_

"What? NO! Fuckin' hell, Sophie, I ain't gay!" Eliot yells at her. Man, what does she think? That he just fuckin'—

"Well you sleep with everyone else, wouldn't be very off, would it?" Sophie asks him. Eliot wants to hit her. God damnit, he wants to fucking hit her. He clenches his fist, his teeth, and exercises self control.

"If you were a man, I would have put you down already for that fuckin' comment," Eliot tells her through clenched teeth. "We're done here."

Sophie doesn't say anything, which surprises him, and he walks straight out the door, slamming it behind him. Everyone looks up at him. "I'm leaving," he tells them all as he walks right through the apartment out the door, slamming that one for good measure.

Fuck. All. Of. This.

Eliot was sitting at a bar down the street, downing a couple shots of Jack a few hours later when someone slides into the seat next to him. He doesn't look up, doesn't care. He's been lost in his thoughts for hours now.

"Nate's pissed."

Eliot turns and see's Hardison next to him. "How the hell did you find me?"

"GPS."

"That's creepy."

"Well, you weren't at your apartment," Hardison tells him, then waves the bartender over to get himself a beer. When it's in front of him, he turns back to Eliot before he takes a sip. "What happened?"

"Sophie's a cunt, that's what happened."

He didn't want to talk about this, especially not with him. That guilty feeling is clawing its way up his throat. He swears he didn't have guilt before he met these people.

"What'd she do?"

Damnit. _Nothing, Hardison. She just told me how I shouldn't have slept with Parker. You don't think so either? Yeah, neither do I._

Shit.

But he had to say something. "She's convinced I popped Parker cause she's a fuckin' idiot," Eliot tells him. Hey, it's the truth. Just omitting the fact that he actually _did_ pop Parker.

Hardison snorts, "Just ignore her, you know how she likes to be up in everyone's business. When there isn't any drama she's got to create it. Trust me; everyone with a brain knows that you can barely stand her. You're protective as hell, sure. But she gets on your nerves."

True. And yet at the same time… so damn far from the truth that it kills him inside.

"Yeah."

Hardison smiles at him a little and nods his head towards the door, "Come on, wanna get outta here?"

Eliot looks at him, at the way _he's _looking at him, and he knows he has to. He's guilty as hell, and he needs to just… fuck, make it up to the kid, he supposes. Just… damnit, why does he care? Why is he starting to care so much about him? It's just damn unnatural.

He fucking _likes_ him.

Like he would like a woman. Shit. This just can't be… it can't be happening to him.

But Eliot nods, gives him a small smile in return, and the two leave. When they get to Hardison's apartment, Eliot doesn't waste any time. He just needs to feel better, make it up to Hardison, just fix things between them even though Hardison has no idea they've been broken. If he doesn't, he's afraid this horrible feeling is going to devour him whole. So when the door closes, Hardison ends up getting pressed up against it with Eliot against him, and Eliot decides that the boy's neck looked like a good a place as any to start.

"Damn," Hardison breathes out as he grabs onto Eliot's hips, pulling him closer. "So then you're… obviously accepting this shit then?"

"Shut up, Hardison," Eliot tells him against his neck, and bites him softly before dragging his teeth across his throat while he lifts up his shirt. Then his lips are on Hardison's chest, dragging across it as he bites him softly around his nipple, making Hardison gasp. Eliot really didn't want to go too far with this, he sure as _hell_ ain't ready for it, but right now? He'll go as far as it takes to make this fuckin' feeling go away.

Eliot yanks at the belt on Hardison's jeans, undoing it in one swift motion. Hardison's eyes go wide and he gasps out, "Whoa, okay… right… uh…" But Eliot isn't listening to him not be sure about this, he just needs him to let him do… shit, something. He needs to fix this. In any damn way that he can.

Why does he think he can fix everything with sex? Isn't that how everything gets fucked up in the first place?

Eliot's lips crash against his again, making Hardison moan deep in his throat. As Eliot works on undoing Hardison's pants, the boy is breathless against him, sliding his hands up Eliot's shirt and curling his fingers to scratch down his chest. Eliot growls something primal and as he pushes Hardison's jeans down to the floor below them. But as his hand slides under the waistband of Hardison's boxers, he hears the stupid fucking words he knew were coming, "Wait… Eliot…"

Eliot pushes himself off of Hardison, pissed off now as he runs his hand through his hair and scowls. "Fuck it," he tells him. Just figures, don't it?

"Eliot, just wait a second before you get all pissy," Hardison tells him as he picks his jeans and puts them back on. "It ain't like… I mean this is new for me too, and you're all just…"

"Look, sorry I fuckin' tried to so somethin' for you, man," Eliot tells him with a glare. "Jesus, you're the one that fuckin' wants me, I was just tryin' to… you know what? Forget it."

"Stop being a dick, I hate when you get like this," Hardison tells him. God, he sounded exactly how one of Eliot's girlfriends would sound. This can't be good.

"Cry."

Hardison ignores that. "What the hell is with you, anyway? A couple days ago you were all 'I'm so not gay!' and yeah I know you're like… dealing with it, but you were doing it slowly. All of sudden you wanna drop my pants? What the hell is up?"

"Nothing!" Eliot yells at him, frustrated and just… just angry. At himself more than anyone else.

"Eliot, you can talk to me…"

"I'm not your fuckin' _boyfriend_, okay?!" Eliot bursts out. "So stop talking to me like I am! And for shit's sake, I just wanted to fuckin' blow you, okay? DO YOU HAVE TO ANALYZE IT?!"

Hardison just blinks at him, not being able to comprehend his little outburst apparently for a few minutes. "You… seriously?"

"I'm outta here," Eliot tells him and moves towards the door, but Hardison's still against it. "Move."

"Eliot, was that your way of telling me you want to be my boyfriend?" Hardison asks him, still not moving out of his way.

"_Are you on crack?!"_ Eliot asks him furiously. In what twisted fucking dimension did he even _imply_ that?!

"Well I don't know! You never fucking talk about anything!"

"We're _guys,_ Hardison, we don't fuckin' talk! We just _do!"_

"Eliot…"

"Move. Seriously."

"Eliot, can you just wait a minute? Can we just talk about—" Hardison tries, but Eliot isn't listening. He's just pissed, fucking_ furious_ for so many damn reasons right now.

"Move before I make you move, I'm fucking serious. You have five seconds."

"Eliot…"

"One."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or something…"

"Two."

"Eliot, you won't hurt me, so just stop."

"THREE."

"Fine, fuck you. Just fucking go, see if I give a shit!" Hardison yells at him, and opens the door for him. "GET OUT."

"I will. Bye," Eliot tells him through clenched teeth as he leaves. Fuck this, fuck all of this! Fuck _him._

"Bye, you fucking asshole."

And then the door is slammed behind him, and Eliot turns around and punches the wall. The plaster cracks and falls around him, and all he can think about is how he needs a damn drink, and how if Hardison doesn't give a shit then he'll find someone that will.

**TBC…**


	12. The Confusion

**CHAPTER TWELVE  
The Confusion**

He… was… _pissed._

He slammed open the door to his house, and almost fucking blew his damn head off when he saw who the hell was sitting in the middle of his living room. Seriously? Will she not just leave him the fuck _alone??_

"What the fuck are you doing in my house, Parker?! Are you so completely _dense _that you can't comprehend the meaning of locks? You're a fuckin' thief! FIGURE IT OUT. I don't want you in here anymore, ever! You got that? EVER. You're screwing everything up, you and your damn non boyfriend. Just fuckin' giving me headaches and makin' me wanna just get the hell away from all you fuckin' psychos!"

Alright, maybe that was uncalled for. But he was on the edge… and he just kind of fell off of it.

Parker's blinking at him, in the way that makes his anger dissipate and immediately make him feel like an asshole. Like a damn wounded puppy. She purses her lips together and holds up a DVD box set. Roseanne. Oh no… he didn't just… oh shit…

"I just wanted to watch it with you again, I thought you liked it…" she tells him softly, in this tone of voice that makes him want to rip his own face off and bash it into a nearby wall. God, he is such a _dick._

"Shit, Parker…"

Parker sets her jaw and flashes her eyes, getting up off the couch. "Bye," she tells him, and tries to walk out the front door. He blocks her.

"Parker, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean that. I just got though… I just had it out with Hardison, alright? I'm just fuckin' pissed, and I thought you were here for sex or something, and I just didn't want—"

"Eliot, You weren't _that _good."

Whoa. Wait. _Excuse me?_

"Okay, hold on a minute here, uh uh," Eliot says, and waves his hand in front of her face like she's damn dense, because she has to be. "I rocked your damn world, don't give me that shit."

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? Not that good… pfft.

"Nope, Sophie was way better than you," Parker tells him flatly, and Eliot thinks his brain dribbled out of his ears. He just stares at her, like he's pretty sure that he must have heard her wrong, but knows he didn't. Then she smirks. Oh, that little… "You're so easy," Parker tells him with a grin, and smacks him on the chest lightly with the back of her hand before she heads back to the couch. "Come watch Roseanne with me."

That's it? Wasn't she furious with him a minute ago? And hell who could blame her. He really is a bastard sometimes. But maybe that little stint she just pulled was her idea of revenge. And hell… it kind of worked. She managed to bruise his ego then fuck with his lesbian happy place all in a matter of like ten seconds. Damn. Maybe he should start giving her more credit.

He doesn't want to watch Roseanne, he thinks the show is kind of stupid and clearly for women, but he sits down next to her anyway. She presses play on the DVD and snuggles in next to him. Damnit it with this touchy feely phase she's going through. But halfway through the first episode he already had his arm around her, and wasn't minding it all too much anymore. Parker felt good in his arms.

Damnit, Hardison.

Eliot has no idea why the hell that dick just popped up in his head, but he tries to ignore it. He's so pissed at him right now, more than he thinks he probably should be. For one, he slept with Parker, so really he doesn't have much ground to be pissed at him. But he fuckin'… hurt his damn feelings, shit. Eliot was trying to fix it, trying to make it better, make him feel good by doing something he was fuckin' terrified to do and Hardison just… told him NO. How is it that he can fuck Parker, and he barely even likes her, and yet he fuckin'… he fuckin'… shit. He _likes_ Hardison, damnit. Hates him to hell and back again, but none the less… likes him.

Stupid asshole.

"Eliot?" Parker asks him quietly after a long period of silence.

"Mm?"

"Are you mad at me?"

Eliot looks down at her, and she lifts her head up off of his chest to look at him too. She looks so vulnerable, but he doesn't want to lie to her. "A little."

"You didn't want to have sex with me, did you?"

A sigh, and he runs his hand up her arm to try to comfort her a little while he tells her the truth, "No."

"I don't understand that," she tells him, shifting a bit to try to get a little further away from him. But he tightens his hold on her, not letting her move. He's not gonna reject her in ievery/i damn way.

"It ain't you, I mean… shit, Parker," Eliot sighs again. "You're beautiful, alright? Fuckin' gorgeous. But what we did? It ain't right. Not to Hardison."

"Just cause we like him it mean we can't sleep with each other?"

Man, explaining this to her fucking blows. "No, that's not what I— Okay, look. You like him a lot, right?" Parker nods. "More than me." A pause, then another slight nod. "Well he likes you, way more than he likes me too, and how I like…" he stopped there. She gets the point. "And us sleeping together is like a betrayal to him."

Parker's silent for awhile, contemplating that. "But what if I like you too?" Eliot just stares at her, and Parker just stares back. Eliot doesn't get that, didn't she tell him the other day she couldn't sleep with someone she actually liked?

"Did you like me before or after the sex?" he asks her, cause hell, that's the only way this might make even a little bit of sense.

"I don't know."

"Well you should probably figure—"

"Do you like me too?"

Brain. Stopped.

What?

Eliot's never really… thought about it. Not extensively anyway. Yeah, he likes the way her body looks naked. Yeah he likes the way she whimpers in his ear and grabs his hair and rides him like tomorrow ain't comin'. But as a person? Okay he… tolerates her as a person. She kind of drives him insane. But there might also be this little part that does… fuck, care for her… in a way that just ain't… it ain't just in a friend way.

"Eliot?" Parker asks as she turns a little more and sits up to face him better. "Do you like me?"

"I… uh."

He doesn't fuckin' know! Give him a break, here!

"Eliot," she repeats again, this time more firmly. She wants an answer. "Do," she kisses his neck. "You," up to the base of his ear. "Like," his cheek. "Me?" And then his lips, and they stay there for awhile, making Eliot close his eyes and just fuckin'… feel. Heat. Right through his damn body. But not just heat, not just attraction, its like a warmth. A full feeling. The kind he gets with Hardison.

Maybe he does. Oh… shit.

When they break, Parker licks her bottom lip self consciously and then chews on it as she waits for his answer. Eliot has to tell her. "Yeah… I think so. Shit."

"Then we probably shouldn't have sex anymore," she tells him, and then she's away from him, on the other side of the damn couch. Her logic is so fuckin'… _insane._ Granted, she finally got what he was trying to tell her, but that's not how life is supposed to work. You sleep with people you like! You know, unless there are extenuating circumstances like… Hardison.

"Parker, we seriously need to fix your perspective," Eliot tells her with a sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair before rubbing his temples. A migraine is coming on, he can feel it.

"On what? Sex?"

"Yes, sex," Eliot tells her, a little frustrated. But he's trying to be patient here. "Parker, what you're scared of—" Parker tries to interrupt, probably to say she's _not _scared, but he holds up his hand. "Yeah, you're scared. Get over it and listen. What you're scared of? That feeling when you kiss someone you like, the nervous one, the one that makes you worried that the person you like might not like you back or fuckin' reject you cause they're… well they'd have to be insane," Eliot admits. "But that's the price you gotta pay. Nothin' good comes without a price. And when you don't get rejected, it's a way better feelin' then you could have ever gotten by sex with someone you don't actually like."

"So you're insane?"

What?

He must have said it outloud, because she continues, "You rejected me. A lot. Over and over. You're even rejecting me now."

"Parker…" God. Fucking. Damnit. "I just got more morals than that, or at least I damn well try to. I like you, hell I would love to fuck you every damn day till one of us gets sick of the other and we just move the hell on. And I wouldn't mind, you know… whatever," by whatever he means more romantic bullshit that he just ain't saying outloud to her. Or outloud to anyone, ever. "But I don't like betraying my friends, and poppin' you is like a knife in the gut to that kid if he ever finds out."

"You're still not making any sense," Parker tells him, and Eliot wants to scream. Maybe a little. Or fucking a lot. "You're telling me to go and take a chance with someone I like, right?"

"Yes," Eliot says, breathing. Finally she gets _something._

"But what if I want to do it with you, here, right now. It's dumb, right? Cause you'll say no, and then you're point isn't actually a point, cause your saying no one will say no, but yet you are. So I don't understand why you're telling me to do something you know won't work."

"I meant with _Hardison!"_ Eliot yells now, frustrated. Damn, what the hell?

"But if it won't work with you, and you've already seen me naked and… stuff, then how will it work with Alec? I have a good body, and most people usually like to see it again."

"…You never call him Alec." He ignores her body comment. Only cause its true.

"Hardison," Parker revises. "Answer my question."

"I can't! Jesus Parker, congratulations, you have now successfully managed to confuse even me. I'm so done with this conversation," Eliot grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. This is ridiculous. Parker can't comprehend anything.

The silence between them lasts for a half an hour while they continue to watch Roseanne. Eliot actually found himself getting sucked into the drama with Roseanne being more important than Jackie's husband (oh god, what's happening to him?), but that might be just cause he didn't wanna think about anything else at the moment. All is well, all is good until…

"You want to have sex with me again."

Not even a question. It's a statement. A statement like she just realized it, realized that he wasn't rejecting her because of that. He looks over at Parker. "Just cause I would like it, don't mean I should do it. That's somethin' you gotta learn for yourself, sweetheart. What you want ain't always what you should do."

"You want to have sex with me, you like me… but you're giving me to Hardison," she tells him, like she's actually figuring stuff out now. Eliot guesses that all she needed was some time to think.

"I ain't _giving_ you to anyone, you're not my property. But I'm backing off _because_ of him, yes."

"That's kinda sad," she tells him with a little pout, like she pities him. Okay, not cool. "You're making yourself not happy cause of you're trying to make him happy."

"I'm pissed off at him right now, don't make me think about that or I'll take it back," Eliot grumbles.

"Why are you mad?"

Eliot ain't gonna tell her, cause she specifically asked for no sex. And while he wasn't going to_ fuck_ him, he was gonna…

"Just tried to make him happy and he basically threw it back in my face," Eliot grumbles. That's it, end of sharing.

"Did you try to give him me and he threw me at you?"

His headache is spreading across his forehead. "Parker, for the last time, you are not a _thing_ that gets passed around, damnit. And no, it wasn't about you. I think if I wrapped you in a bow and presented you ready and willing he'd fuckin' kiss me or somethin'."

"Do you want him to kiss you, is that why you're giv—um, backing off?"

Is this Twenty Questions? Seriously. "No, that's not why I'm doing this. If you're his I doubt he'll wanna kiss me anymore."

"So you're doing this cause you don't want him to kiss you anymore?"

"PARKER!"

"What?"

Jesus Christ. He's done with the questions, he's done with the games, he's done with this damn love triangle that's driving him insane. He's just done. So he gets up, takes her hand and drags her to her feet, and steers her towards the door. "This is what you're going to do, okay? You listening?"

Parker looks confused, but nods. Great, fuckin' lovely.

"You are going to go over to Hardison's house. When he opens the door you are going to kiss him. And then you both can live happily ever after forever more and stop making my head wanna explode."

"But—"

"No buts," he tells her, and steers her out onto his front porch. "Go, now. Do it." And then he shuts the door, locks it, and then bolts it for good measure. He's sure Parker has other ways into his house, but for right now? It'll make a point.

He might like Hardison, he might like Parker… but this shit is just crazy. He can't deal with it, it's too much drama, too much confusion, and if he has to bypass two people he really likes to make it stop? So be it. Maybe he might not be thinking this entirely through, but hell, it's just over now.

Hopefully.

**TBC…**


	13. The Second Intervention

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
The Second Intervention**

Okay, Eliot had to admit that as far as making good decisions go, he hasn't exactly won a damn prize or anything this past week.

But shit like this doesn't involve tactical planning and precision. He can fight someone, anyone, and be able to judge their next move by how they followed through with their last. He can judge weaknesses, easy damage areas, hell… he _knows _that stuff. It's what he does, what he's always done. What he's good at. But this? He ain't no good at this.

Eliot is great with seduction, sure. He's had more lovers in his life than he can be bothered to sit down and count out. But as far as having a connection with any of them? Not really. There was Aimee, and obviously he screwed that up all the hell and back again, so it's not like he has much faith in himself where that department is concerned. So he does the one thing he knows he's good at: he runs away. He ran away from Aimee, and now he's running away from both Hardison and Parker.

Problem was, with Hardison and Parker… he couldn't actually physically run. He was part of something here, something that means more to him than he will ever admit. So even if he's trying to make the problem go away, it's still fuckin' staring him in the face every day.

Also, his grand master plan of getting Parker and Hardison together so he wouldn't have to deal with this shit anymore? Yeah, that one obviously wasn't fuckin' thought out too well.

It's been two whole days since Eliot sent Parker off to him, and it's been two whole days that those two have been just fucking… nauseatingly all over each other. Really, the PDA was getting out of hand.

"Will you two quit it? I can hear the smacking sounds of your lips over my damn com," Eliot growls, and rubs his ear. He was coming back from gathering intel for another case, and he couldn't concentrate on driving while they were being all… nasty like that. If it wasn't for Nate's new rule of keeping the coms in until you're back at base (only to avoid all the little mishaps that could make everything go terribly wrong if they ended up being followed) he would have taken the damn thing out.

"Jealous?" came Hardison's voice in his ear. Yeah, they still haven't made up yet. The boy was being really aggravating. You'd think he'd have some appreciation for him after he convinced Parker to go over there.

"You wish."

Actually he was. Intensely so. Of hell, both of them. Hence why this little plan of his was obviously just a really fucking stupid idea. At the same time though, he knew they belonged together. His happy ending just ain't… it ain't either of them. Hell knows if he even has a happy ending.

"I like kissing him. Sorry," Eliot hears Parker say, then softly in the distance, like she's trying to cover her com tell Hardison, "No. Stop being mean to him. You know he…"

But that's all Eliot got, because then Nate's voice chimed in. "Hardison, as happy as we all are about… whatever this is, stop fooling around and keep your eyes on the cameras Parker placed yesterday."

"Hey, I had one eye on them the whole time. I can multitask! I'll have you know that in high school I was known for being able to program while—"

"What? Not getting laid?" Eliot jabs. He couldn't help it, it was too easy, and he was still angry.

"Eliot!" Sophie tries to intervene, but Eliot ignores her. He's still mad at her too.

"Hardison, just pay attention to your work," Nate says with a tone of finality. Man, it's like he thinks he's like their damn father sometimes.

When Eliot got back to the apartment, Sophie and Nate still weren't back yet. Sophie rode with Nate, and they heard her over the com convince Nate, or really kind of just demand, that they stop at this department store they passed because she apparently needed some new shoes to perfect her new character. Whatever. Women.

Hardison was on the couch staring at the monitors like they were going to make him go cross-eyed. There was nothing interesting happening on them at all, and apparently hasn't been for awhile. He had his arm around Parker, who was snuggled up to his chest while absentmindedly picking locks. Eliot rolls his eyes and flops down on a chair, picks up a magazine, and just kind of stares at it. He didn't wanna be here, but he knew he'd have to be for a least a little while until Nate and Sophie make it back safe. Might as well look busy, and it also keeps his eyes from wandering to look at the other two across from him.

He could feel both of their eyes on him once he sat down though. But he didn't say anything. Hell, what was he supposed to say?

Sure, he was happy for them. Those two had been making moon eyes at each other for over a year now. But it just… it made him feel left out. It's one thing to lose out on one person, but two? It just… fuckin' sucks.

"Parker told me what you did."

Eliot's eyes leave the magazine to look up at Hardison, and he's posed and ready for a fight as he briefly thinks she stupidly told him about the sex before he finishes with, "…Thanks."

Eliot shrugs, and turns back to his magazine, he doesn't want to look at him, or at her. "You liked her." Explanation enough.

"Yeah but… I know you…" there's a pause, and Hardison puts his finger up to his com to put it on mute. He motions for Parker and Eliot to do the same, and they do. They don't need Nate or Sophie hearing this. All they need to hear is them, not the other way around, after all. "You liked me," he finishes once the coms are muted.

"Don't flatter yourself," Eliot tells him flatly.

"You know, that one might have worked if you didn't already tell me that you did," Hardison tells him, eyes narrowed. Shit. Yeah, Eliot forgot about that.

"Whatever."

"He liked me too," Parker interjects, and now Eliot wants to throw the damn magazine at her. Her need to be included in this conversation might have just caused a big problem. Eliot doesn't look up, but he knows Hardison's looking at her, and then can feel him look at him.

But then he chuckles a little.

"Flattering yourself seems to be catching," Eliot says flatly again, just trying to avoid a mess. Sound like he doesn't care.

This apparently, and the fact that Hardison kind of laughed at the idea, unfortunately ended up offending Parker. "What? Do you think no one else can like me but you?" she asks Hardison. Ha! Eliot's now amused by this, since he's the one not in trouble, and the fact that there iis/i now trouble in paradise. He looks up from the magazine for this.

"That's not what I meant—"

"Because Eliot does like me, a lot. Okay? He said so. Told me that if it wasn't for you that he would have sex with me every day until one of us got sick of it," Parker tells him, just trying to state her case. Eliot can see how she can think what she said couldn't be taken badly, because hell, she did say if it wasn't for him, and that the idea was only entertained, not carried out. But that didn't go over as smoothly as he would have liked it too.

Hardison blinks at Parker, and then slowly turns to Eliot. "Did you say that? Did you wanna have sex with Parker? Seriously?" He's looking at Eliot like he doesn't know who's in front of him anymore.

Eliot decides that acting casual and feigning nonchalance about the whole thing might make it go away faster. He shrugs and looks back at his magazine before saying evenly, an explanation: "She's a woman."

"Sophie was right."

Whoa, hold on. That got his attention. "Right about _what_, exactly?" Eliot asks, anger now seeping into his voice.

"Nothing, forget it."

"No, I'm not gonna just _forget it_ Hardison, right about what?" Eliot repeats. Damn him, damn him to fuckin' hell and back again and damn Sophie for starting all the shit. If he says one thing about…

"Sophie thinks you have too much sex," Parker tells him.

"And this is something she decided to discuss with _everyone?"_ Eliot asks furiously. It's one _damn _thing when Sophie has to feel the need to force her own opinion down_ his _throat, another when she discusses his personal business to everyone else!

"Well, she always discusses everything with us before we—"

"PARKER," Hardison interrupts to stop her. But it's too late, Eliot knows what's coming. And hell _NO _is he going to be Sophie's next fuckin' victim. He's up and out of his chair before either of them can say anything, but he swears God just enjoys playing cruelly times jokes on him, because right when he opened the door, he came face to face with Nate, who had his key out already, and Sophie who was behind him holding more bags than what would be needed for 'one pair of shoes'.

"YOU," Eliot says dangerously, and points at her. "You just have to stick you're damn nose where it don't belong. Will you get your fuckin' head out of your own ass for a second and maybe take a moment to contemplate why the hell you feel the need to fix everyone's problems? It's cause you're as fucked off as the rest of us, darlin'! Can't fix yourself so might as well fix everyone else, huh? Whatever. Get the hell outta my way, cause I ain't dealing with this shit."

"We're not doing an intervention right now," Nate tells him, his voice grave. "We have a problem."

A pause. Shit. Well damn, he'll deal with Sophie later, "What happened?"

"Can you guys get inside so I can put these bags down please?" Sophie asks annoyed, and Eliot and Nate move inside so she can come in. Once she puts the bags around, she turns around, closes the door, and locks it from the inside with a key. She then puts said key in her pocket.

"The problem was getting you to stay," Nate admits, and Eliot swears he must have steam coming out of his ears by now. That… that was fucked up. Seriously and completely fucked up.

"I ain't listening to this shit," Eliot tells them all, who have now gathered on one side of the room, pulling out their stupid little cue cards. Fuck this. Fuck those. Fuck no. Fuck everything.

"Eliot, please sit down," Sophie starts.

"I'm fine standin', thanks," Eliot says, and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes are narrow, his jaw is set, and he's just fucking furious. He'd go out the damn window but he's pretty sure they already made precautions against other exits. He was trapped, unless he wanted to break the damn door down (which he was seriously considering).

Sophie doesn't argue with him, knowing that it's pointless. "Alright, well let's just… get through this then, yeah?" She smiles at him, but Eliot just narrows his eyes more. "Look," she says, getting serious. "We're concerned about you. You seem to have let sex take over your better judgment."

"You know nothing about my sex life," Eliot tells her flatly. Because she fucking doesn't.

"Yes, _I do_," Sophie tells him in a way that reminds him vividly about their conversation about Parker. Eliot doesn't say anything; only because he's afraid Sophie will let it slip to prove her point. "And we all know how many women you've had since we've all been together."

"No, you don't."

"So there's been more?" Sophie asks him, eyebrows raised. "Because last time we counted there was twenty two."

How is twenty two an unreasonable number in a year and a half? Granted there were more, but it's not like he had a different girl for every day of the year, or hell, even every week of the year.

"Your point?" Eliot says dryly.

"The point is that you're obviously searching for something, and looking for it in all the wrong places. You need to learn to form connections with people, emotional connections. Sex isn't the only thing people have to offer, Eliot. Nor is it the only thing you have to offer to someone."

God, she fuckin' sounds like his mother. You know, if his mother were still alive.

He just blinks at her, and says nothing. He's not satisfying her with an answer to any of that. Once she realizes he's not going to say anything, she turns to Nate and nods at him. Nate doesn't look happy about having to participate in this intervention either. He looks down at his little note card, and Eliot cocks an eyebrow, waiting.

"Eliot, it's really awarding to get to know a woman as a person, and not just as a body. It wouldn't hurt to try it out," Nate reads awkwardly.

"Did Sophie write that for you?"

"No," Nate says, and looks at him. He's actually being serious. "I mean it. I was married at one point, you know."

Whatever. He does get to know women as people. He knows Parker and Sophie, doesn't he? He knows a little bit more of Parker than he probably should, but regardless.

"Parker," Sophie nods at her.

Eliot had decided he's not going to say anything throughout the rest of this. He's just not going to give them the satisfaction of it. Plus, the less time they argue, the faster he gets the fuck out of there. He knows the game; he's seen it done three times.

Parker picks up her note card. "I liked that you liked sex," Parker starts, and Eliot hopes to hell and back that she ain't gonna say anything about… anything. Even Sophie's looking at her like she's doing it all wrong, which as far as interventions go, she kind of is. "But apparently it's bad," she finishes.

Eliot smirks, but that's only because Sophie looks annoyed.

"Parker, that's not—"

"Well I don't agree with you," Parker tells her honestly, and that makes Eliot smirk more. See, he knew he liked the girl for a reason.

"We'll talk about this later," Sophie tells her, eyes narrowed. Eliot is still amused by it though. For once, everyone didn't just follow Sophie blindly. She waves her hand at Hardison.

Hardison doesn't even look at his note card, he just addresses Eliot. "You_ do _have more to offer someone than just sex, man. Sophie's right about that. You might be Mr. Oh-I'm-Hot-And-Everyone-Should-Want-Me-Because-I-Got-Epic-Man-Hair-And-Lots-Of-Muscles, but you're also really protective, and whether you wanna admit it or not, you care about us. And if you can care about us, what's to stop you from caring about someone else?"

Eliot just stares at him; he didn't think he would have that much to say. Neither did Sophie either, since she's staring at him with this stupid little smile on her face. "That was really nice, Hardison," she tells him.

But Hardison isn't looking at her, he's looking at him, and is obviously trying to portray more than what he just said. Eliot nods a little, saying he gets it. Or at least, he thinks he gets it. From what he gathered, Hardison meant that he was able to care about him on a… different level, so he's able to care about someone else that way. Which he already knew, of course he already knew. But at the same time, he fucked that one up too, so it's not that he doesn't know that he can't get there. He can get there. He just can never stay there.

"To help you, I think it'll be good if you went two weeks without sex."

Eliot turns to Sophie, and finally speaks. "And how exactly do you plan on making sure that happens?" he asks, with a bit of a scoff. Please, put cameras in his damn bedroom for all he cares. There are other places to have sex. Not that he couldn't go two weeks without sex, he could. He's not an addict or anything. But he kind of just wants to do it just to… spite Sophie.

He knows she's trying to help, he gets that. But frankly? He's still pissed at her.

"Parker and Hardison offered to chaperone you," Sophie tells him, with a little smile.

Okay, hold the fuckin' phone. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, we get to stay in your house for two weeks," Parker says, like she's excited by the thought. "It's like a really long sleepover! It'll be fun! We can make smores and watch more Roseanne!"

"You want Roseanne?" Nate asks him, now smirking.

"Okay, no," Eliot says. This is a bad idea all around. He is not going to be babysat by the two people he's trying to avoid being around. "I ain't gonna have any privacy. Fuck no."

"Eliot, it's just for two weeks. And you can sleep alone, bathe alone… it's not like they're going to be with you ever second of every day. But when you go out, they're gonna be with you. And they have to be with you at your house, you could bring someone home with you," Sophie explains, but Eliot isn't listening.

"Why do I need _both _of them?"

"Two sets of eyes are better than one, plus they both volunteered," Sophie tells him, and Eliot looks over at Hardison and Parker, his eyes narrowed.

"No."

"Dude, you remember what you told me when Sophie did this to me?" Hardison asks him.

Yes. He does. To just go along with it, get it over with, cause Sophie just doesn't take no as an answer. But this is _different._

"Come on Eliot, it'll be fun," Parker tells him, and smiles. She bouncing a little on the balls of her feet and Eliot wants to shoot himself in the head.

Whatever. Fuck.

"Neither of you are allowed in my room. And my bathroom? I get it first in the morning. Neither of you are allowed to attempt to 'cook' either, or whatever it is that you think what you make is. Also, take-out is not, under any circumstances, entering my house."

There. Fucking ground rules.

"Fine," both of them say at the same time, and Sophie looks positively happy that she got her way.

Fuck this. This is gonna be hell. But he knows if he doesn't just do it, then Sophie's gonna have all of them follow him, and there is_ definitely_ a way into his house that only Parker knows about, so he can't exactly take precautions about that either.

Repeat: hell. Hell in a fuckin' fruit basket.

**TBC…**


	14. The Proposition

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
The Proposition**

"So what do you wanna watch first? I brought more Roseanne, and I also have The Nanny," Parker says as she holds up two DVD box sets, bouncing them up and down as if to indicate a choice is needed. What was really needed was a damn drink.

"The Nanny!" Hardison says excitedly, and it makes Eliot look at him with an eyebrow cocked. God, these people…

"Eliot?"

"I don't care," Eliot says while walking past them and into the kitchen. Their first night together called for one Mr. Jack Daniels. Though only because he wouldn't be able to get through tonight unless he was somewhat drunk to begin with.

Hardison and Parker apparently already had their bags packed, because they followed him home right from Nate's. The two argued over who was going to get the guest room and who would get the couch, even though Eliot has no idea why. They were all with the making out now; couldn't they just share the damn bed? They've wanted each other forever, Eliot's sure they must have already had sex.

Though, apparently he's the one with a sex problem, so maybe normal people just don't do that. But then again, Parker and Hardison weren't normal either. Or maybe they were just putting on some kind of act for him.

"Way to share," Hardison tells him sarcastically was Eliot comes in with one glass of Jack on the rocks. Eliot points to the kitchen, dictating the path to the liquor since it clearly wasn't obvious. They might be in his house right now, but they were forced on him, which means that they are _not_ guests. And only guests get the privilege of not getting off their ass for anything.

Not that he'd really wanna deal with the two of them drunk either, but he can't be a complete asshole and tell them no.

He sits down on the couch as Parker pops in the DVD. Hardison comes back in with the bottle and a couple glasses and—

"No, Hardison. You are not going to destroy good whiskey with _coke._ Not in my house."

"I can't drink it straight, remember last time?" Hardison tells him, and when Eliot goes for the coke, he swipes it away from him.

Yeah, Eliot does remember the last time. Fuckin' vividly, thanks.

"That's when you guys had your first kiss. Aww," Parker says, and both Hardison and Eliot turn to glare at her. She blinks as she takes a glass that Hardison poured from her and she takes a sip before saying, "What? Isn't that a cute moment? TV always says so."

Parker always has this special way of making everything awkward, doesn't she?

Hardison's eyes flickered over to Eliot, and Eliot coughed awkwardly and turned to the TV. "This woman's voice annoys me. Does she seriously talk like that?"

Hardison welcomed the change of subject gratefully. "To quote her famously:" and then he did the most horrid thing that's ever come out of his mouth, "Who would make this up?" He said it almost exactly like her, and Eliot blinks at him.

"You have issues."

"I'm gifted, man."

"Do it again!" Parker said with glee, and Hardison kept talking like that until Eliot took the closest pillow and smacked him in the head with it.

"Hey!"

"It's what you get," Eliot tells him flatly, and pours himself another drink.

If he was to be honest, this time together with both of them wasn't as horrible as he thought it would be. It's probably due to how close to normal things were again. After Parker's badly timed kiss comment, everything about that subject was dropped. Hell, anything about anything was dropped, and they just watched TV, drank, and bullshitted for a couple hours. Parker and Hardison weren't _obnoxious_ly all over each other either, which made it easier for the jealousy to not rear it's ugly head.

But after a couple hours of drinking, Fran's voice was starting to itch at his nerves, and he excused himself to go out into the backyard. He needed fresh air, and hell… needed to work off some aggression. So he wrapped his hands and started hitting the punching bag. He wasn't pissed, wasn't anything, really. Just had shit he needed to get out, and working out is the best way he's learned to do it.

He was out there maybe twenty minutes by himself, working up a sweat when he heard the backdoor open. He didn't look, kept concentrating on what he was doing. But he knew who it was before they even said anything.

"You alright?"

"Fine," Eliot responds, concentrating on hitting the same spot. One, two, three, breath, one, two, three…

Hardison's eyes are on him, and it's making his skin prickle. "Hey, I know this ain't your first choice of, you know, whatever… just cause of what went on, but would you really rather Nate and Sophie be here?"

Hell no.

But Eliot doesn't answer, he just wipes the hair that's sticking to his forehead away and continues doing what he does best: hit things. Though it's slightly more difficult when you're a bit intoxicated.

Eliot sees Hardison takes a step off of the porch and stumble a bit out of the corner of his eye, grabbing onto the railing to steady himself. Eliot says very obviously, but he couldn't help but smirk as he continued hitting the punching bag, "Don't fall or anything."

"It's your steps man, they're too…"

"Too what?"

"Narrow," Hardison finishes lamely. "I'm not that drunk," he defends, even though no one asked. Yeah, right. Eliot just continues smirking at him, and Hardison apparently gets to the point he was aiming for. Unlike the stairs.

"You know if it wasn't for Parker I'd… well, you know. With you, I guess."

"No use talkin' about it," Eliot tells him through heavy breaths. He's still keeping his eyes trained to the spot, only because he knows if he looks at Hardison he'll stop. Drunk Hardison appealed to him in that… very wrong way. Very wrong. Right.

"But you'd apparently like to do that with Parker instead."

That makes Eliot stop, and he grabs onto the punching bag to keep it from swinging as he turns to him, out of breath. "Don't screw up what you got goin' on, Hardison. You have her, just be happy you do. Shit just happens."

And he wasn't exactly sure about 'instead'. Maybe 'as well' would have been more accurate.

"You suddenly wanting to sleep with her doesn't _just happen."_ Hardison tells him, but he must be awfully drunk because he doesn't even seem angry about it. He sighs and comes over to him, managing to not stumble this time, but Eliot keeps his distance by having him on the other side of the punching bag. "You never said anything like that to me."

Wow, that was such a woman thing for him to say. He takes back liking drunk Hardison. "Why do you care?"

"Because I'm not stupid, Eliot. I know how you work. You can't even begin to contemplate liking someone unless you've already had a part of them."

Eliot just stares at him, not knowing what to say. It's true, but now he's wondering how much of Parker he knows that he had.

"I don't know what you two did, and frankly I don't want to know," Hardison tells him. "So whatever you did, kiss her… or fucking whatever else… just don't ever tell me. Unlike most people, I enjoy living blind to some things, alright?" Hardison requests, and Eliot looks at him for a long time before nodding slowly. He was not expecting that at all. It must be the liquor… liquor does funny things…

"But what I want to know is why you told her that… and not me."

Seriously?

This conversation was… it was nothing like any conversation he's ever had with Hardison before. Most of it's sarcasm, some yelling, hell even some awkwardness. But this was… sure, slightly awkward, yes. Hardison's being a great big girl. But outside of that… he doesn't know but maybe… maybe he kinda likes Hardison being a bit or a girl over it. Being a bit jealous. But at the same time this conversation sounded so much… shit, like finality.

He fuckin' hated that.

"I wanted to blow you, I think that should already answer your question," Eliot says, evenly, but softly.

But as much as he thought he could do this, be a fuckin' man and have this conversation he just… can't. It makes him… fell and junk. He turns to walk away but Hardison puts a hand on his arm and stills him, before pulling him a bit to turn around.

Okay, way too close for comfort.

"I wanna hear it."

"Why? You have Parker now," Eliot tells him. He just doesn't get this. Why does he need this? Is he trying to fuckin' torture him?

"Because it's important, Eliot."

"I thought this whole thing was so that I could learn sex isn't important," Eliot mocks slightly. He tried to move away again, but Hardison wouldn't let him go. All this touching really wasn't helping in the way of… anything.

"No, its so that you learn that sex isn't the _most_ important thing." Hardison sighs again, but lets his grip go that he had on Eliot's arm. Eliot would have been thankful for that, but instead he chooses to let it slide his fingertips almost painfully slow down his damp skin. "Tell me, seriously."

Eliot looks him in the eyes, and tells him honestly, but very evenly so that no emotion would come out in his voice and he'd start soundin' like a damn girl, "Yeah, Hardison. I woulda fuckin' loved to bang you, okay? Would you like details or can you paint the picture yourself?"

But Hardison doesn't say anything. A hint of a smile forms on his lips, and Eliot just… hates all of this. Why the hell is he doing this to him? Doesn't he have better things to do than throw what he can't have in his face like some kind of—

But Eliot's thoughts are stopped suddenly as Hardison's lips touch his. He closes his eyes as he forgets everything for a moment, the heat and the feelings just running through his veins so much like fire for him to remember what he should and shouldn't do. Hardison's hand is on his cheek, kissing him so much deeper… and maybe it was a little too late, but Eliot did remember that this was wrong.

He turns his face away and breaks the kiss, stepping back from him. "What are you doing, man? You're gonna fuck everything up with Parker."

"No I ain't," Hardison tells him, and he's still looking at him like he wants to kiss him again. Does this boy have a brain? Seriously.

Eliot's about to say something, when he hears Parker behind him. "I told him he could."

Eliot whips around to face her. How the fuck long has she been standing there?! And why the hell does she just have to come in and try to… god, what is she doing? "What the hell kind of drugs are you two _on?"_

Parker blinks. "I don't do drugs."

"Parker told me that she knows I need you to help me work through this… the whole gay thing, you know? She's a girl and can't exactly help with that…" Hardison's rambling now, this can't be good. "And she also said that you need me too. And it's weird okay? We all get that's its weird and its not normal and whatever but this shit's important right? Working through it? And she said that she doesn't mind…" an awkward pause, and Eliot's waiting for him to spit it out. "Unless she gets to watch."

Okay, this is nine shades of fucked up. He should have never gotten them intoxicated. That's the last time he shares his liquor.

"First of all, aren't we all fucking in the position because I need to stop having so much sex? And now you want to fuck me and _let Parker watch?!"_

"No, that's not—"

"I mean do you guys even stop and think about how the hell I'm gonna feel about all this? Or do you just assume that because I apparently fuck anything that walks on two legs that I'll just go along with it?" Okay yeah, now he was a little pissed. He rounds on Parker. "And didn't you corner me in my kitchen not too long and ago and tell me to not fuck him?"

"I see the way you look at him, I'm not stupid," Parker tells him. "You didn't even look at me that way when we—"

"Don't finish that," both Eliot and Hardison say at the same time, then look at each other. Alright, the echo was a bit weird. Or maybe he just was really drunk.

"You want him, I'm sharing."

"For the last time, Parker. People are not something to be given, traded, bought, shared, or whatever else," Eliot says, just annoyed with this entire situation.

How can they think this is a good idea? Maybe if yeah, he wanted to just_ fuck _Hardison, then whatever. But this? This was… shit, this was something the he just couldn't fuck with. Because then what? Hardison's all content being a bit gay, and so is he and then… and then it's just over. He rides off with Parker in the fuckin' sunset and Eliot's left alone. Again.

And what about Parker? He fuckin' likes her too. They start having this weird kinky threesome (which under different circumstances he wouldn't be opposed to) and what's he supposed to do? Just sit there and try not to watch while she gets herself off to what _they're _doing? Hell no!

This is so gonna screw up their working relationship.

"Well I don't know what you want to call it then, but for all intensive purposes I'm sharing her too," Hardison tells him.

Okay, this has got to be some sort of dream. Or nightmare.

"Excuse me?"

"Well it ain't like I'm jumping for joy about the idea, but Parker pointed out that it's only fair," Hardison tells him, looking at Parker. Eliot turns to look at her too, and she has this sneaky little smile on her face. "And it ain't like we're asking for sex," Hardison continues. "Trust me, I ain't ready for that and neither are you. Just, you know… kissing and whatever else."

Kissing and whatever else. _Right._

"You both are fuckin' drunk," Eliot tells them, and storms past both of them and back into his house. They follow.

"I thought you'd like this," Hardison tells him, and Eliot whips around… just fuckin' mad. Like always.

"Well you thought wrong, okay? So just fuckin' forget about it. I'm goin' to bed. Ya'll know where you sleep, so don't let me stop you," Eliot tells him before turning into his bedroom, slamming the door, and locking it.

They have to be smoking crack if they seriously thought that was a good idea. Because all it did was made him feel used.

**TBC…**


	15. The Fight

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
The Fight**

"Are those for us?"

Eliot turns around and see's Parker in the threshold of his kitchen doorway, staring at a plate of food like it's worth a million dollars. Eliot doesn't say anything, just motions to it. A smile breaks out on her face and she comes in, sweeping up the plate with one hand and going in to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Eliot makes a face and moves his cheek away from her, and he can see Parker lose a little bit of her happy. She lets out a breath as she looks at him, and takes the other plate too. "I'll bring it to Hardison," she tells him, and Eliot just makes a noise like he doesn't care either way, because he doesn't.

He was feeling really weird around both of them now. But just because he was mad at their stupid little idea, that didn't mean he wasn't going to feed them both breakfast. Though mainly because he didn't want them trying to make it on their own. The house would probably burn to the fuckin' ground.

When he gets into his living room, Parker and Hardison are snuggled on his couch eating. He doesn't say anything, just sits in the armchair, even though there was plenty of room on the couch. They both are staring at him, probably trying to figure out a way to make all of this better, or how to force him to come over to the Dark Side (okay, he's never watching Star Wars again).

Seventeen minutes of silence while they ate. Eliot knows that because the clock on the mantle has been ticking down like a bomb ready to blow. Seventeen minutes until of course, Parker says something.

"It's Halloween."

Yes, clearly, being the thirty first of October and all. Eliot looks up at her, "I know."

"We should go to a party," she says, and smiles a little bit at him. A party. Yeah, right.

"You hate people," Eliot flatly tells her, because doesn't she? A party just gives people an excuse to be near her, something she never has boded well with.

"But you don't."

"Hey, I vote for a party. We can't just all sit around on Halloween," Hardison tells him, with a little smile of his own. Eliot knows what they're trying to do. And… no.

"Watch me."

Eliot gets up and gathers all their dirty dishes before retreating back into the kitchen. Hell no is he gonna go to a party. He fuckin' hates this holiday. Everyone gets drunk, high, damn plain _stupid _and run amok around the city. He'd rather not be a part of that if he can help it. And he doesn't want to party with them anyway. He's still pissed.

"Come on, man. You never go out unless it's to a bar or something. It's a _holiday_," Hardison tells him, following him into the kitchen. Eliot's sure Parker's right behind him, but he doesn't turn around as he puts the plates in the dishwasher.

"Ya'll can go out, don't let me stop you."

"But Sophie says—" Parker starts, but Eliot turns around and interrupts.

"Sophie can go to hell. Trust me, the last fuckin' thing I need right now is another person around that wants a piece of my ass for their own damn selfish reasons, alright? So fuckin' go out, have fun, and I promise not to boink the damn gardener while you're gone."

"You have a gardener?" Parker, of course. Always missing the point.

And no, he didn't have a gardener. He can tend to his own plants, thanks.

"Eliot, we don't want a piece of your ass," Hardison tells him, and Eliot raises an eyebrow at him. "Alright_, fine,_ but that's not _all_ we want. And frankly? A little offended that that's all you think of us."

"Yeah," Parker jumps on the bandwagon, hands on hips. Jesus. "We like you for other reasons outside of your startlingly large penis."

Both Eliot and Hardison look at her.

She blinks and looks at Hardison, "Haven't you seen it?"

"No. And I wish you didn't say anything about _you_ seeing it," Hardison responds. God, Eliot has a fuckin' headache.

"Haven't you ever walked in on him changing?"

Oh, right. She did do that twice before they even… god, who cares? This is stupid. "Guys, fuckin' seriously… just quit it. I ain't your sex toy, be happy with what the hell you have with each other and just _leave it."_

"See, and that's the fucking thing right there, Eliot!" Hardison suddenly rounds on him and exclaims. Eliot wasn't expecting that much of a reaction. "We don't think of you as a sex toy, okay? So stop acting like we're the bad guys here. We aren't using you, we aren't screwing with your feelings, alright? Because me? I like you. I have all these stupid fucking _feelings _for you. You know it, Parker knows it. Alright? And I can't speak for her, but apparently you did a damn number on her too. So if anyone should be mad at _anyone_ here, man, it should be us at you! Cause you come in and you make everyone fall for you and then you just up and leave everyone! You're the one who took us both and then made it so we could be together, all still while… DAMNIT, ELIOT!"

"Hey! I never asked you to fall for me! Either of you!" Eliot defends, the only thing that can come to his mind at the moment. He was still trying to process what Hardison said in the first place. How can he blame this on him? It wasn't like his master plan to make everyone want him and then run away. How can he even think that?!

"Stop yelling!" Parker cries, but no one's listening.

"No, you just started to be all fucking… knight in shining armor with me and my whole gay thing, all being so _supportive_. You purposely took me when I was vulnerable just so you could have someone to try out _your own_ little gay fantasies with!" Hardison yelled.

What? Hell no! Hardison was the one who made him even realized he liked men in the first place, he _knows_ that, doesn't he? Why the hell is he turning this on him?!

"And god only knows what you did to Parker, but one day she's normal and the next she's talking about you ever other minute. 'Can Eliot come over? When's Eliot gonna come over? Can we hang out with Eliot?'" Hardison mocks, I think he even forgot Parker was in the room.

"Stop!" Parker yells again, this time more desperate. Eliot knows how much Parker hates all the fighting, but Hardison ain't stopping, so why should he?

"Why does everyone assume its what I did to Parker? Does anyone stop to think for one minute that she was the one who manipulated _me?!"_

"Because Parker doesn't understand half of this shit, and you know it! So don't try to pin this on her, that's so fucked up!"

"STOP IT! I _MADE _ELIOT HAVE SEX WITH ME, OKAY?! I'm NOT stupid and I'm NOT naïve so just STOP THINKING THAT I AM!!"

That made everyone stop. But only for a minute from the shock of her little outburst… then Eliot was pushed back against his counter by a furious Hardison. Eliot's back collided with the marble and he let out a growl, but contained himself.

"You bastard! _How could you do that to me?!"_

"Because I'm a fuckin' slut, is that you wanna hear?!" Eliot yells back, and this time when Hardison tries to push him and get all up into his space again he grabs the boys wrists, twists him around and pins him all bent over the counter with his arms behind his back. He's not gonna hurt him, but he damn sure is gonna hold him.

"STOP!" Parker yells, and the way she does makes Eliot and Hardison both look at her because it doesn't sound like the sanest thing that's ever come out of her mouth. "STOP! STOP! _STOP!" _And then she's taking dishes out of the cabinets and furiously throwing them on the ground, shattering them, trying to get attention.

Hell, she got the attention. The pieces of glass were flying everywhere, and Parker already had a few cuts on her bare legs. Not anything huge, but if she didn't stop…

"Alright we stopped! Parker, QUIT! You're gonna hurt yourself!"

Eliot let go of Hardison, and ran over to Parker, taking another dish out of her hand and putting it down while Hardison ran over to her and wrapped her in his arms. She's thrashing, angry, upset, until she just breaks and all her movements still. She's not crying, Eliot's not sure if she even knows how to really cry, but she's breathing oddly, almost like dry sobbing.

Shit.

"It's my fault," she chokes out against Hardison's chest, and looks up at Eliot with these big wide sad eyes that just _kill _him inside. Then she looks up at Hardison, "Don't be mad at him, please don't be mad at him it's my fault… it's all my fault… he told me no, told me it's mean to do to you and I just… I just kept…" Eliot's sure she's crying now. God… this whole mess….

Hardison holds her for a little while, just stroking her hair and shushing her. Eliot just looks on this whole scene like its something from the worst horror movie he's ever seen. And then Hardison looks at him, and Eliot doesn't know what the feeling he has is, but he knows that for right now… it's just over. No matter how pisssed Hardison is at Eliot, he ain't gonna destroy Parker in the process. And hell, neither is Eliot.

Hardison lets her go, and gives her a little nudge towards Eliot, and then Parker flings herself on him, holding his shirt and just burying his face in his chest. Eliot looks at Hardison, and Hardison just nods at him, so Eliot puts his arms around the girl. "Hey, darlin'… come on, stop cryin'… it's okay now, alright?"

It took nearly an hour to calm Parker down fully, but she seemed to have wore herself out with expelling that much emotion (which, lets be honest, she's never been one to show much of any emotion, let alone a whole mess of it),so she ended up falling asleep on the couch. Hardison stroked her hair softly, and sighed as his eyes flickered over to Eliot.

"We've fucked everything up, man," Eliot tells him quietly, assuming that by his look that they needed to… shit, talk… something. Clearly. "All of us did."

Hardison nods once and looks down at the sleeping girl on the couch. "So you like me, I like you, you've fucked her, and she's fucked me. Great. We're just fucking… hell, we all need therapy." There's a pause as he's stroking her hair, and Eliot can tell he isn't done so he waits. "But I believe you that Parker was the one to do it… cause she…"

"She did it to you?" Eliot asks, confused. Hasn't fucking Parker been number one on his list of priorities forever? How exactly did she_ make_ him do it?

"Wanted to wait," Hardison explained. He lets out this little laugh, even though it's not all that funny. "Treat her good, ya know? Like a lady, like she's special. Like I don't want just what's under her clothes, you know?" He looks up at Eliot then. "That lasted all of six hours."

"She tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Eliot doesn't want to just tell him Parker's business, so he asks, "Did you use a condom?" Probably an awkward fuckin' conversation, but whatever.

"Of course I did, I ain't stupid. How she was basically attacking me though… almost not. Why? Did you…? Oh my god, did she give you an STD or something? _Is she pregnant??"_ He was yelling in a whisper, or at least that's how Eliot would describe it. But he didn't wanna wake up Parker and hell, neither did he.

"No, man! That's not…" Eliot sighs. "It's her business, so nevermind. But no I didn't catch anything and trust me, she ain't pregnant."

Hardison noticeably relaxed, but looks at him suspiciously. There's silence for a little while longer before he asks, "So what do we do about this?"

"What?"

"_This,_ Eliot. All of us. All of us and our fucked up little… whatever the hell we are. We can't keep on just… shit, nevermind," Hardison says and chews on the inside of his cheek. He just looks at him, looks at Eliot like he knows so much more than what Eliot could ever say, and Eliot doesn't know what to do.

"There ain't nothing that can be done," Eliot tells him. "We can't all be in a relationship with each other. It just ain't gonna work."

Hardison cracks a smile.

"What?"

"You said relationship," Hardison says, his smile growing. Eliot rolls his eyes and flips him off. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that word EVER."

"It ain't like I'm allergic to that idea or anything," Eliot grumbles.

"And plus, who says?"

"Who says what?"

"That we all can't be in some sort of little… threeway relationship?" Hardison asks carefully, like he wasn't sure if he should bring up the idea, and Eliot's mind goes blank for a moment.

That's… that's… stupid, right? That shit never works out in real life. There's always jealously, always fuckin'… just drama. More drama than what's already going on. And how would that even work? They take like what… _shifts?_ While the idea makes him feel better than the idea of them being their little threesome sex object, it still was… weird.

"How would that even work?"

"I dunno, just a thought… probably stupid though, right? Yeah, just forget I said that," Hardison retracts, and Eliot lets him. That was… way too weird to even think about right now. Sure he likes Hardison, he likes Parker… but to be in a relationship with both of them? Hell to even be in a relationship with one of them, period? Wouldn't that just be…?

It doesn't matter. They can't just jump into shit. Eliot doesn't even know if he wants to… what? Fuck, he doesn't know. He can't think. So he's just gonna let Hardison drop it, and wait for Parker to wake up. Just pretend this last hour never happened, right? Might be the only way to deal.

**TBC…**


	16. The Uncommon Relationship

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
The Uncommon Relationship**

"No more fighting?" Parker mumbles sleepily as she slowly wakes up from her nap. She opens one eye, groans a little as she grumpily folds her arms into herself and turns her face back into the couch. Apparently waking up wasn't high on her list of priorities.

"No more fighting," Hardison tells her, running his fingers through her blonde tresses to get them out of her face. Parker makes a mumbled sound of acknowledgement into the couch.

Eliot hates to admit it, but hell… she was kind of cute, waking up all grumpy like that. He smiles a little bit despite himself.

"Come on girl, wake up," Hardison prods at her gently. Parker swats his offending hand away with a little noise of discontent. Eliot smirks. "It's like three in the afternoon."

"Tiered," she mumbles.

Hardison looks at Eliot helplessly, and Eliot just shrugs. If the girls tiered, just let her sleep. "Well at least wake up for a minute so we can take care of those cuts on your legs," Hardison tells her, looking at the few tiny slices that adorned her lower legs.

"Leave them," Parker mumbles, and swats at Hardison again as he tries to get her up.

"Come on, they could get infected."

Parker mumbles something that sounds like, "Don't care."

Hardison does the whole helpless look at Eliot again, and Eliot rolls his eyes and sighs. Fine. He gets up and comes over to the couch, and before Parker knows what's happening she's scooped up into his arms. She makes some kind of whiny sound that sounds a lot like, "Dooonnn't!" and swats at him a little, but he carries her into the bathroom, Hardison behind him, and sets her down on the toilet seat. She makes a face and rubs her eyes with the back of her hands.

Hardison's getting the washcloth and some antibacterial soap as Parker tries to be alert and awake to the world, but its not working out so well. "Mean," she mumbles.

"Horrible," Eliot agrees, just to amuse her, and she narrows her eyes at him before yawning big. Hardison kneels down in front of her and starts tending to her legs, and Parker lets out one more yawn before finally becoming semi-alert to the world around her.

"So all better?" she asks again, looking between the two men. Hardison looks over at Eliot, and his eyes catch his.

"For the most part," Hardison tells her.

"What isn't fixed?" she asks as Hardison turns back to cleaning her legs. As he takes out the band-aids she asks, "Can I fix it?"

Eliot doesn't think anyone can.

Hardison gives her a small smile as he puts the band-aids on her. "Unless you can figure out how we're all gonna deal with… this, whatever this is, then no, honey." He pats her legs softly as he gets up. "There, done."

Parker looks up at Hardison and smiles, "Thank you." Then she turns to Eliot and peers him at that unnerving way that she can do sometimes. "Come out with us tonight."

"Parker, I told you I don't do Halloween. It's—" Eliot tries to reason with her, but what she said next made him forget what the hell he was saying in the first place.

"No, I mean on a date."

Eliot just stares at her, before his eyes flicker up to Hardison, who has his eyebrows raised as he looks at her like he's impressed. Eliot's eyes go back to Parker, and she's looking at him expectantly. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? A date with _two people?_ Hell, at the _same time?_ Eliot would be confused on who picks up the damn check.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Mainly cause he has no idea how the hell that would even work, and if it would be as weird as it sounded.

Eliot can see Hardison's face immediately fall out of the corner of his eye, but Parker's face stayed the same. Studying him. It was kind of creepy. "Why not?" she asks, in this light tone of voice that just implied complete curiosity, and not at all something that signified defeat. But Eliot probably should know better by now.

"Okay, for starters… who'd pay?"

"Me," both Parker and Hardison say at the same time, then look at each other. Eliot cocks an eyebrow.

"See? And I think it should be me, I'm the man."

"I'm a man too!" Hardison interjects.

"But I asked you out," Parker argues. "Both of you, though you," she looks at Hardison, "Already have to go by default."

"Women don't pay," Hardison argues.

"See, there's number one," Eliot tells them, just trying to make his damn point here. "For two, are we just gonna what? All fuckin' skip down merrily lane with each other while we all hold each others hands? PDA and all that would just look… I dunno, like you and one of us," Eliot indicates to him and Hardison, "Are married and the other one is just the kinky threesome marriage bitch. That shit usually only goes on behind closed doors, not fuckin' paraded around in public."

"Why do you care what other people think?" Parker asks, like she doesn't understand that one bit. But she never would. Parker's never been one to really even notice the world around her anyway.

"I don't," Eliot says. Which, okay, yeah obviously he might a little. But he's not the only one.

"Eliot might be right about that," Hardison tells Parker, and Parker looks at him accusingly because he was supposed to be on her side. "People are gonna be staring and shit probably."

"But we all… like each other, don't we?" Parker says, clearly now devastated by both of them not being into the idea.

"Yeah but girl… it ain't something that's exactly common," Hardison tries to explain, but Parker just shuts him up with one more glare.

"Does that mean it's wrong?"

"No, but—"

"Why are you guys scared?"

Okay, hold on just a second now.

"I am _not_ scared," Eliot tells her. He doesn't get scared. Not of shit like this anyway. Worried maybe, but scared? No.

"Then why can't we try it?"

"It's just something that doesn't need to be shown in public," Hardison tells her, but now Parker's upset. She gets up off the toilet seat and puts her hands on her hips.

"Fine, if you guys don't wanna go on a date with me than just _fine."_ And then she storms out. Hardison sighs and looks at Eliot.

"Hey, don't look at me, she's your girlfriend."

"Yeah well she's pretty much yours too now whether you like it or not," Hardison tells him flatly.

Eliot looks out the door at Parker's retreating form and narrows his eyes. Great, so basically, whether he wants to be involved in this or not… he doesn't actually have a choice in the matter? But looking back from Parker and then up at Hardison, he knows he really doesn't. Whether he likes it or not, he's already knee deep in this. It ain't something he can walk away from anymore, only because he knows both of them will follow. And while once he did think he had a strong enough reserve, now? Probably not. They're his, and he's theirs. No matter how hard he tries to fight it, it just ain't gonna change.

"Maybe we should just go… if it means that much to her," Hardison tells him as he looks over at Eliot.

"I can't believe Parker's into something as fuckin' normal as dating," Eliot responds, still surprised by it. He looks up at Hardison as the boy comes over to him to lean against the wall next to him before shrugging.

"She's still a woman."

"In physical form, yes," Eliot says, and Hardison smirks. "But she's also so freakin'—"

"Special?"

"Not the word I was gonna use."

Eliot forgets for a minute what their talking about when suddenly he feels Hardison's hand brush lightly against his, curling his fingers slightly around it like he doesn't know if he should be doing it or not. Eliot looks over at Hardison, and he looks back at him before he laces their fingers together. Shit, they were holding hands. They've never done that before. It was kinda… nice.

"Yeah well, you can be an asshole sometimes so I figured I'd stop it before it happens," Hardison tells him, but the smirk is still on his face. And he's the asshole?

"Fuck off, Hardison," Eliot says, but it's halfhearted, and he doesn't let go of the man's hand. Hardison turns to face him, and Eliot is very aware of how trapped he is against the wall. But he's not defensive like he would have thought. Maybe part of him has accepted this more than he's realized.

"We should go. For her."

Eliot looks up into Hardison's chocolate brown eyes, and it slightly scares Eliot how much they feel like home. He absentmindedly strokes the back of Hardison's hand with his thumb. "We split the bill, me and you," Eliot says, his way of giving in. But under no circumstances is he ever gonna let a woman pay.

"Agreed."

There's silence for a little while, and Eliot's kind of just enjoying being near Hardison in this way. "And don't tell me I look pretty or nothin' weird. And I can pull out my own damn chair." Just so that record is known. He don't wanna be treated like a damn girl.

Hardison smirks, "I wouldn't dream of telling you that you looked pretty, Eliot. You're ego's big enough." But then he starts being mock bashful and says, "But I wouldn't mind if you called me pretty, my ego can always handle a nice stroking."

It's probably wrong that Eliot's brain went to a completely different place just by the world 'stroking'.

"Something of yours needs strokin' alright," Eliot tells him with a smirk, which got even wider when Hardison seemed to get embarrassed over the comment. "Come on," Eliot says, and nudges him forward. "Might as well go tell her it's on."

"You do it," Hardison says, and Eliot looks at him.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Hardison says, and Eliot can see him bite the inside of his cheek a little in thought before he says, "Do it like this…"

Eliot's eyes close as Hardison's lips find his, and he can feel the grip he has on Hardison's hand get tighter. His lips part and he can feel the moan of approval vibrate low in the back of his throat as their tongues fought for dominance. Eliot was sure there was a point to this, but fuck, he forgot what it was supposed to be. His other hand finds its way into the back pocket of Hardison's jeans before he pulls him gently closer to him, needing to feel him pressed completely against him. For what was probably only two minutes seemed like an eternity to him, so when they broke Eliot missed the feeling of him like he was missing part of himself.

"Go," Hardison tells him softly, and tugs Eliot's hand a little. Then Eliot remembers what the point was.

"You want me to kiss her?" he asks. Cause hell, he doesn't wanna start any shit. While Hardison's content with sharing Eliot, he still didn't seem one hundred percent sure with sharing Parker.

"Well you want to, don't you?"

"Wouldn't complain about it. But you—"

"Need to get used to you guys being together," Hardison tells him. "Because she likes you, and hell if I can have you… it ain't fair if she can't."

Eliot's weary about it, but at the same time finds he's actually really looking forward to be able to kiss the girl again, as fuckin' weird and out of this world that is. "You hit me, I'll hit you back," Eliot tells him, but Hardison just smirks.

"Just go, tell our girl the good news."

_Our girl._ It maybe makes him smile a little. Man, what has he gotten himself into? If it didn't feel so good, he'd wonder if he was insane.

He nods before leaving the bathroom, coming out to see Parker curled up on the couch with her knees to her chest as she watches TV. She's got a little pout on her face, and Eliot wants to make it better, no matter how cute it kinda made her look. He walks up to the couch, and even though he knows Parker can hear him, she doesn't acknowledge him. Still mad.

"Hey," Eliot says as comes up behind her, leans down and wraps his arms around her. She looks startled, only a little, at Eliot's sudden touchy-feeliness. She turns her head to look at him confused, but she isn't met with words, only a searing kiss. He can feel her slightly tremor underneath him, just barely that he almost didn't feel it, but it was there. Damn, can he really do that to her? He might have to give her surprise kisses more often.

She seemed to have been holding her breath, because when she finally lets it out it tickles Eliot's bottom lip and then the shock seems to have worn off because she sits up slightly straighter, pushes more into him as she opens her mouth and lets him in as her hand comes up to tangle in his dark hair. While Hardison was gentler with his passion, Parker was more aggressive. Eliot isn't sure which one he likes more.

When they break, Parker purses her lips together and asks, "Does that mean we can go on our date?"

"Yeah, darlin'. Me and Hardison are gonna take you out and show you a good time tonight."

Parker's smile was so wide she was grinning practically ear to ear. She turns around to look at Hardison, who's leaning against the threshold of the door. She waves him over enthusiastically and when he comes over she practically jumps on him, arms wrapped around his neck as she kisses him. Then she turns, her back against Hardison's chest as he wraps his arms around her. She holds out her hands for Eliot, and Eliot can't help but smile.

Hell. Forget being knee deep, he's drowning in it now, but it ain't so bad.

Parker takes Eliot's hands in hers and pulls her over to them. "I'm happy," she tells them, looking up at the both of them with a big grin. Hell, Eliot would be lying if he said making the girl happy didn't make him happy too.

How this was gonna work though, he has no idea. But fuck, they're gonna try it anyway.

**TBC…**


	17. The Date

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
The Date**

"Do I need a costume?" Parker asks, sticking her head out of Eliot's bedroom door. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail and she had some light makeup on. Eliot didn't even know the girl owned makeup. The only time she's ever worn any was during a con, and he thought she borrowed it from Sophie or something.

"No," both Hardison and Eliot tell her from their respected spots on the couch as they waited for her to get ready.

"But its Halloween!"

"Don't worry girl, we're gonna do something in the spirit of the holiday," Hardison tells her, and Eliot looks at him. They still have yet to figure out where they were going to take her, honestly. Dinner, yeah. That's a given. Other than that? No idea.

"Why won't you guys just tell me?"

"It's a surprise," Eliot tells her, and she narrows her eyes. She might be on to them and the fact that it's only a surprise cause they have no fuckin' clue.

"Fine, but I can't find my bra," she tells them, and finally comes out into full view of them. She was topless and in panties, and Eliot and Hardison just stared. Parker didn't seem to notice. "Is it in there?" Neither of them answer, they're a bit too busy staring. "Guys?"

"Uh, no…" Hardison says, clearly still distracted.

"Just go without one," Eliot says a bit too enthusiastically. Parker just puts her hands on her hips and looks at them.

"It's not like either of you haven't seen me naked before," she says, almost like she's chiding them, before she goes back into the bedroom and shuts the door. Eliot and Hardison look at each other and smirk.

"She's gonna be done soon, figure out where we're gonna go," Hardison tells him.

"Me? You do it."

"Eliot, boobs are dancing around in my head, I can't think."

Eliot rolls his eyes. The boy still acts like such a virgin. "Fine. Uh, haunted house? Ain't there one downtown?" Hardison makes a face, and Eliot looks at him with his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"I don't like haunted houses."

"Pansy."

"Hey, excuse me if people jumping out at me and screaming is _not_ my idea of a good time," Hardison defends, but it just makes Eliot smirk.

"I'll hold your hand if you get scared," he looks at him innocently. "Knight in shining armor, remember?"

"Okay, now you're just mocking me."

"A bit, yeah."

"Asshole," Hardison says with a bit of a pout, but it's just too good for Eliot to just let go. He can't help it, he likes giving him a hard time.

"Hey if you don't want me to protect you, I'm sure Parker will."

"I can protect myself!" Hardison defends. "Hell, I can protect_ both_ of you. Scared of a little haunted house? Me? Pfft." Man, that was too easy.

"Good, then it's settled," Eliot says, while flashing his dazzling 'I win' smile. Hardison narrows his eyes.

"You're a manipulative bastard, you know that?"

"But you're the one that likes it, so what's that say about you?" Eliot counters with a smirk. Okay, he was enjoying this more than he thought. Not just this pointless banter but just _this_, this relationship or whatever, with all three of them. It's not at all the drama-fest he thought it would be. But then again, it's only just gotten started. But he feels comfortable.

"I'm gonna kick your ass," Hardison says, but he's teasing. Eliot kinda likes it.

"All talk."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah Hardison, I think you're scared, just like you are of the haunted house."

"I'll show you scared," Hardison says, and practically pounces on Eliot. Eliot lets him pin him to the couch as he's on top of him, but he does put up a little bit of a fight when he tries to hold him down. But its only to give the boy a little bit of the advantage, and maybe a little cause he likes Hardison being on top of him. They play wrestle for a bit until Eliot lets him get the upper hand and lets him pin his wrists above his head.

"You let me do that," Hardison accuses.

"Nope, you got me," Eliot tells him, but can't stop himself from smiling. Hardison knows it's bullshit.

"Liar."

Eliot just widens his smile as he leans his head up and kisses him. Hardison's grip slacks on his wrists as he lays more on top of him, kissing him deeper as his one of his hands slips off of his wrist so he can lace their fingers together. Then Hardison's lips fall from his, and Eliot lets out a sound of grumpy protest before they find his neck. Eliot closes his eyes and growls a bit as Hardison nips lightly as his collar bone.

Yeah, he might be able to get used to this.

"Okay, I'm ready," Parker asks as she comes out, and the two men turn their heads to look at her. Eliot's sure his fuckin' jaw hit the damn floor.

She had taken her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall gracefully down her bare shoulders. She was wearing a pleaded red sundress; casual enough except it accented her breasts really well. And while normally Eliot would be surprised that Parker even _owns _a dress, what makes him not surprised was her footwear: sneakers. She was beautiful in that way that tomboys try to become girly and still missing it by a little bit.

"Damn," Hardison says, sitting up. Eliot's inclined to agree on the choice of words.

Parker's staring at them both like they went crazy. "Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

"Because you're fuckin' hot," Eliot says, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. Parker smiles a little.

"Cool."

Only Parker would find being hot 'cool.'

When they got to the haunted house, the line to get in was pretty long. After waiting in it for twenty minutes, Parker's ADD started to kick in. When she started picking people's pockets and then putting the stuff back just for fun, Hardison told her to stop. Eliot just kind of found it funny, but did agree with Hardison. They were on a date, not working.

"But I'm bored," Parker complains, bouncing on her heels a little.

"We're almost in," Eliot tells her, pointing to the line. There was only about ten or so more people in front of them. She lets out a breath of air that puffed her cheeks out a bit before leaning back against Eliot's chest. He puts his arms around her.

"Come on baby, patience," Hardison tells her, and Eliot makes a face.

"God, are we using pet names already?"

"Sure, cupcake."

"Call me cupcake again and I'll break your wrist," Eliot threatens as he narrows his eyes at him. Hardison just looks amused.

"Sugar? Pumpkin?" Hardison continues, just screwing with him because he knows he can.

"Parker, kick him in the shins for me."

Hardison holds up his hands and backs up a little even though Parker doesn't make the move to. Damn, she could have helped out a little. "Hey, hey, no ganging up!"

"I don't know why you don't like pet names, Eliot. You call me darlin' all the time," Parker tells him, as she turns her head to look up at him. Okay, fine, got him there.

"Yeah, see!" Hardison says, and points. Pointing should be made illegal.

"Hardison, shut up and turn around. We're almost in," Eliot tells him, noticing they were next. Hardison turns around to look, but then turns back around to face them, with an odd look on his face.

"I don't wanna go first."

"Baby."

"I wanna go first," Parker says, and gets off of Eliot to push in front of Hardison, excited now. Hardison slinks behind her, and now its his turn to lean on Eliot.

"I ain't scared," he tells him, defending something that Eliot didn't even get a chance to voice outloud yet. Eliot rolls his eyes but can't help but smile. Hell, it's kinda nice to play the hero for this boy.

"Gimme your hand, and if anything scares you, I'll punch it, okay?"

Hardison holds his hand, but says, "Please don't punch the people in costume, Eliot." Hey, he wasn't actually going to or anything.

Then Eliot notices the three people standing behind them, who are staring at them like they're some kind of herd of rodeo clowns or something else really weird. Eliot growls and narrows his eyes, "What the hell are you starin' at? Got a problem?" All of three of them mumble something incoherent and look away from them. Yeah, that's what he fuckin' thought.

He hates getting stared at, damnit. Makes him angry.

"Come on!" Parker says as it's their turn, and starts to take off. Thankfully, Hardison grabbed her hand and pulled her back before she could get too far and lose them.

"Hold on, slow down," Hardison says, and Parker pouts.

Hardison was kind of a big girl throughout most of it. He screamed so much Eliot was beginning to wonder if he was even going to have a voice left at the end of the night. He jumped back against Eliot and pulled Parker in front of him so many times to protect himself that it kinda made Eliot wanna laugh as well as make it all better for the poor boy.

Unfortunately for one zombie, he did successfully manage to startle Parker so bad that she hit him the face and pretty much dropped kicked the kid to the floor. That shook Hardison out of his fear as he had to help him up and apologize a million times for their girlfriend's violent reactions.

Though all in all… didn't suck.

Finding a place that they all wanted to eat though was a task. Parker wanted Chinese, Hardison wanted seafood, and Eliot wanted Italian. How they ended up in the back of his pickup truck with some burgers and fries though, he didn't know. He's liable to blame Parker. She was the one munching away the happiest. Eliot hated fast food, but not because it didn't taste good. It was just the _principal _of the idea.

But as they all sat in the truck, parked on a hill through the woods where Eliot liked to go sometimes to just be around nature, looking up at the moon, Eliot didn't care too much about what they were eating anymore. It was nice to just be with them.

After they ate, Parker laid down and looked up at the sky. Eliot chose to sit on the roof of his car while Hardison sat with his back against the back of the truck, idly playing with Parkers hair again. He seemed to like doing that a lot.

"What if there are people just like us, up there, looking at the sky too? Looking at us and wondering the same thing?" Parker asks, staring at the stars. Eliot looks down at her.

"Dunno if they'd be _people,_ exactly."

"It could be, like that opposite world everyone wonders if it really exists."

"Or a world made entirely up of shrimp."

Both Eliot and Parker look at Hardison strangely. "Too much Buffy, sorry."

"I like shrimp."

"You are a shrimp," Eliot tells her with a smirk. She looks up at him and narrows her eyes.

"I'm not _that _tiny."

"Little bit."

She sits up and turns around to look at him. "Fine, then I'm gonna call you steak, cause you're so meaty."

Eliot smirks, though he's sure she has no idea how that really sounded.

"Stop talkin' about food, we just ate and ya'll are making me hungry again," Hardison tells them, and when Eliot cocks and eyebrow at him he must then have realized what he was implying and does a facepalm. "You know what I meant."

"That you wanna eat Eliot?" Parker asks, amused.

"Okay, me? Not talking anymore," Hardison mumbles, and Parker giggles and crawls over to him and gives him a kiss before laying her head in his lap.

"Come down here," Parker tells Eliot, and Eliot looks down at the two of them.

"Ain't no room."

"Yeah there is, Parker will just move her feet and I'll move over like an inch or two," Hardison tells him, and Parker starts to move. Eliot climbs down and settles himself in next to the two of them. Hardison puts his head on Eliot's chest as Parker sprawls across the two of them, her's on Hardison's chest. They all just lay there for awhile, content and comfortable as they just enjoy the cool breeze and the silence all around them.

And then Eliot feels fingers stroking him softly over his jeans. He can't see who's doing it though, and while part of him wants to say something, the other part of him who's enjoying the attention doesn't. So he stays silent, and as he starts to grow harder, the fingers working him through his jeans seem to become more persistent. Eliot makes a soft sound, and then feels another hand slide over to help out. He has no idea who started it, but now its both of them.

"Thought you said no gangin' up," Eliot says in a low voice, but it ain't accusing. Parker turns her head to look at him, and she's biting her bottom lip softly as she watches Hardison go in for Eliot's neck.

"Whoops," Hardison says softly, but doesn't sound the least bit sorry. His lips are brushing softly over his tanned skin, coming in to bite and suck softly every few moments as Eliot can feel Parker going for the zipper on his jeans.

"Thought I was… damn, Hardison, do that again," Eliot interrupts himself, and Hardison bites him hard again on his collar bone. Eliot lets out a sound that may or may not have been a whimper, but he manages to get his thoughts together and finishes, "…not supposed to have sex for two weeks."

"Third base isn't sex," Parker tells him as she unbuttons his jeans, sliding her hand underneath the fabric to pull it down a little as Eliot raises his hips. Hell, when she's right she's right.

But as he gets exposed to the cool night air, his eyes flicker to Hardison. Hardison's never seen him before, and now he was a little worried he might freak out. What if he takes one look and decides he's not gay anymore?

Okay, now he's worrying about stupid shit. He's never worry about this kind of crap before. What the hell are they turning him into?

"Besides," Hardison says as he stops kissing his neck to look down at him. He smirks at the sight of Eliot half nude, and Eliot thinks he can breathe a bit easier now since he didn't run screaming. "This shit is supposed to be so you can form relationships with people. Think you got that down already. You're forming one with us aren't you?" Then there's a pause, and Hardison looks embarrassed to say, "Plus I… wanna try something."

Eliot doesn't say anything, because finally his cock is in Parker's hands, and she's starting to coax him up to his full height softly. Hardison kisses him, and Eliot moans deep in his throat, not giving half a shit that they were in the back of his damn truck in the middle of the woods. Not that there was anyone around, but hell, if they didn't like it, they can just not fuckin' look.

Hardison's mouth has left his, and Eliot makes a sound of protest before he feels the two of them moving. He opens his eyes and looks down to see Hardison sliding Parker's panties down her legs as he's kissing her. Eliot takes matters into his own hands as he watches them, seeing Hardison discreetly slide his fingers down to press against her clit. Parker moans softly, and Eliot squeezes his dick harder as he watches, providing the much needed pressure the situation called for. He lets out a heavy breath as he sees Hardison turn around to watch him, and he can see the man's own erection straining against his jeans. Okay, so him masturbating didn't freak him out either. That's good.

Then Parker's eyes flicker to his and she grins before crawling over to Eliot. Hardison's behind her, but all Eliot can think about is that he hopes she's going where he thinks she's going. But it wasn't Parker that got there, it was Hardison. Hardison moves Eliot's hand and takes over for him as Parker goes higher up, positioning herself over Eliot's face as she faces down his body so she's able to watch Hardison do what Eliot's dick is screaming at him to do.

Hardison's hand on him was like a fuckin' explosion, probably only because it just feels so _wrong._ But because it feels wrong, it's just that much hotter.

"God, yes," Parker hisses out as Eliot's head raises up to her hovering above him, and his tongue flicks against her clit. She holds onto the roof of the truck with one hand as her other holds up her dress, and she watches Hardison slide his dick out of his pants and start to pleasure himself as he continues to work on Eliot's with all the skilled precision a man should have in that area.

Hardison's breathing heavily as he watches Eliot pleasure Parker, who's knees are sliding down more so she can give Eliot easier access. His tongue explores every curve of her tiny center, loving the way she gasps and writhes against his face. But his work is interrupted as he moans hard against her clit, making her gasp hard and cry out his name as Eliot feels Hardison's mouth wrap around him. Oh _fuck_ yes.

"God Alec, yes, suck him off," Parker gasps out in the nastiest little voice that's Eliot's ever heard come out of her mouth. He might like the way that she eggs Hardison on just as much as he likes what amazing fuckin' things Hardison can apparently do with his tongue. He thought it would be weird, him and Hardison doing shit like this because they're both guys, but right now? He didn't care about that shit in the slightest. All he cares about is straining his hips up further to make his cock slide deeper down his throat. He was worried? Worried about _what?_

Eliot groans something inaudible against Parker's clit that sounds almost like "Hardison" as he feels his tongue working on his shaft, sliding up and down in the most teasing way before he flicks it against the tip. But when Hardison's mouth is completely around him again, and he can feel his gruff moans against his sensitive flesh as the man works himself off and as Parker says the dirtiest little encouragements that he would have never expected to come out of someone like her, its almost more than he can handle. Parker's juices are dripping down his chin, and she's panting hard, crying out as she gets closer to the edge.

And then he feels it, not Parker but Hardison, grunting hard as he takes his mouth off of him right before he climaxes, shooting the hot sticky mess all over Eliot's balls and down one of his legs. That makes Parker tense, and right before she rides out her wave, Hardison desperately grasps Eliot's cock and pumps him so hard and so fuckin' _right_ that just as Parker's echoed screams of ecstasy drown out all else as she releases all over his face, he cums so hard all over Hardison's hand and probably part on the damn truck.

Holy. Shit.

And as the three of them basically collapse on top of each other, Eliot has the fleeting thought that hell, maybe this could work out after all.

**TBC…**


	18. The Art of Warcraft

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
The Art of Warcraft**

Eliot woke up the next morning with Parker snoring obnoxiously in his ear; one arm flung over his face so much that it he's surprised he didn't suffocate in his sleep. Her legs were all tangled up in Hardison, who was half off of the bed. One good breeze and he'd be flat on his ass and swearing like a sailor. While Eliot likes the concept of personal space, apparently he didn't care all that much last night. After his (not) sex induced haze last night though, he must have invited them to sleep in his room. Though then again, he couldn't remember, and it would be just as likely that they invited themselves.

He had a big enough bed, it didn't matter. Well, it wouldn't matter, just as soon as they taught Parker how to sleep like a normal human being.

Eliot detangles himself from the mess of arms, legs, and morning breath and yawns as he makes his way into the bathroom. After he took his morning piss and scratched himself a couple times for good measure (don't look at him like that, he's just a fuckin' guy after all) he climbs in his shower and tries to have some recognition to the world around him.

The hot water beating down on his back seemed to take away the tension he didn't know had built up in his shoulders. He rolled his neck, blamed the hell out of the fuckin' truck – cause that obviously wasn't the best place to consummate their little relationship – and makes a mental note to go have that girl at the massage parlor work out his knots later.

No, not that kind of massage parlor.

Truth be told, he was finding it kinda weird that he didn't even have a second thought about waking up in the pile of a jumbled mess of body parts. While he doesn't think this shit is ever really gonna work, cause what relationship survives when it involves three people, it ain't really bothering him. Then again, he is still half awake. His pessimistic side usually thinks of the end of it, when Parker's crying and Hardison hates him, but that day ain't gonna come today.

Hopefully.

Damnit, now he's thinking about it. He knew he shouldn't contemplate early in the morning; it's a recipe for disaster.

Stepping out of the shower he grabs a towel and shakes it a couple times on his head, before looking in the steam covered mirror. He wipes it with his hand and shakes out his hair, letting the wet locks fall down his shoulders. Damn. Mornings.

When he opened the door and stepped back into his bedroom, both of them were awake. Hardison was grumbling something as he rubbed his knees, and Parker was sprawled out on her side, pointing at him as she counted the bruises outloud.

"Four, five… wait, is that a bruise, or is that just an awkward colored patch of skin? No, bruise. Five, six…"

"Parker, stop counting please."

Eliot smirks as he crawls back into bed, and both Hardison and Parker look at him. Parker smiles and turns so she can snuggle up next to him, and Hardison looks at him accusingly.

"You need a more comfortable truck, look what they did to my knees, man."

"Hey, don't look at me. You guys were the one that started it," Eliot says and yawns. Parker nods her head at Hardison like she's proud of them, and then turns her head to say something, but Eliot puts a hand over her mouth. Morning breath was out of damn control. It's probably the fast foods fault.

"Brush your teeth, girl. Seriously."

"Oh yeah," Parker says, and climbs out of bed before retreating into the bathroom. Hardison self consciously checks his own breath with his hand.

"You too," Eliot tells him.

"Yes, mother," Hardison mocks, and follows Parker into the bathroom. But hey, if they were gonna do this little thing, there had to be rules. Like no kissing until teeth are brushed. Eliot doesn't find that unreasonable.

He hears Parker in the bathroom, obviously with her mouth filled with toothpaste because it comes out all garbled. "Youf got ta call himf daddeh not motfer."

"I am not gonna call him 'Daddy', Parker."

Eliot smirks. He doesn't know if he'd like that, but he was leaning towards probably. His mind flashed to Hardison all bent over on his hands and knees crying out, "Mmphf… harder, Daddy!" as he pushes his ass back into him.

Yeah okay, Daddy might work out.

Then again, while it was all fine and dandy with the blowjobs and whatnot, Eliot was still kind of iffy on the whole… anal sex deal. For one, he will not, let him repeat that, _will not _be the one taking it up the butt. There are just some things he will not do, and that hole? That's his exit only. For two, while he may love the fantasy in his head, actually carrying it out is one thing that kind of scares him. Its uncharted territory, and while he's fuckin' fabulous at anything sex related that involved women, he had no idea if he'd be good at it with a guy.

Which makes him a little worried when it comes _his_ turn to give head to the guy. He can jerk 'em off with the best of them, had solo practice with that for years, but it ain't like he can bend down and suck himself off for practice or anything. He's not that flexible.

Shit, now his mind just wandered to how flexible Parker is, and if she could manage giving oral sex to herself. He has half a mind to ask, but that might be pushing the line a little bit, right? Though he's sure Parker doesn't even know the line exists, let alone know where it lies.

But he's a gentleman. Sorta.

He can hear Parker and Hardison faintly arguing through their jumbled words and sounds of spit hitting the sink, though Eliot isn't listening anymore. He's too busy having a mental picture of Parker eating herself while Hardison calls him Daddy.

Man, mornings.

His eyes are closed as he imagines that little scenario in his head, and though he's lost in his thoughts he can still hear them both come out of the bathroom. Then he feels the bed compress next to him before Parker whispers in this low sexy voice, "Morning, Daddy."

He opens his eyes for that.

"Oh come on, Parker, for the last time, I'm not calling him that, and you totally need to stop. It makes you seem like you got some freaky Daddy issues," Hardison tells her as he sits on the bed, bending down to pick up his laptop.

"I do have Daddy issues," she tells him seriously. That makes him look at her. "But I think its hot. You should try it. I wanna hear you do it."

"Not calling him Daddy. Eliot, back me up here."

Eliot smirks, "Can't, sorry."

"You want me to call you Daddy? You ego tripping dirty little—"

"Daddy?" Parker interrupts hopefully, finishing his sentence.

Hardison narrows his eyes. "Ain't. Gonna. Do. It."

Parker pokes at him, just once and very annoying like on his arm as he opens his laptop and double clicks something, "Whatcha doing?"

"Running laps," Hardison deadpans, and Eliot smirks. Man, he needs to get out of this bed and make breakfast, but he doesn't want to get up.

"What game is that?" Parker asks, ignoring his sarcastic comment. She peers over his shoulder, all up in his space.

"Nothing," Hardison says, and his eyes shift to Eliot. Eliot knows what it is just by that, because he makes fun of him for it all the time.

"World of Warcraft," Eliot answers for him. Hardison makes a face because he knows.

"Hey, look. It ain't like I wouldn't love to just lie in bed all lazy with ya'll, but I have responsibilities," Hardison defends._ That_ makes Eliot laugh. Long and hard. "I do!" Hardison continues, slightly offended. "I'm guild leader, and I got a raid to do today in like a half an hour. Excuse me if I have a life."

If that's what he considers a life, Eliot is pretty sure therapy is needed.

"What's that? What are you doing?" Parker asks, watching him play. Eliot's a little amused by how in his little world Parker is right now, only because it's clearly bothering him. But Hardison won't say anything, at least not yet.

"That's a murloc, and I'm farming the bitch for it's eyes."

"How do you farm a creature? It's not a vegetable. And it makes weird noises, I don't like it."

"No one likes murlocs, Parker."

Eliot has no idea what a murloc is. He needs food, so he reluctantly climbs out of bed, knowing they ain't gonna have Hardison alert to the world until probably middle afternoon. While he's making pancakes he hears Hardison attempting to explain the game to Parker in a very tested patient voice, and then once he hears him scream about how some "Ally mother fucker just ganked him."

Ganked is not a word. Eliot is ninety five percent sure of that.

He brings them both food, but Hardison's too busy swearing at something on his computer as he pressed buttons like a mad man. Parker's still asking a million questions, and finally Hardison tells her to please just eat her food and be quiet cause he's busy. Parker pouts, not happy with that plan, and chooses to use her designated social interaction time with Eliot instead.

"Ignore him, he's probably just mad that someone in his guild just jerked off all over his sword or something," Eliot tells her, and Hardison gives him the finger without even giving him a glance.

"Can they do that in the game?" Parker asks, excited about the prospect now.

"Unless someone's a programmer and they do it, no," Hardison tells her, and Parker's back to pouting. "And before you ask, I haven't done that either."

Parker starts eating her pancakes while deciding now is apparently a great time to attempt to talk about their relationship like, shit, she's a normal person or something.

"So how many times a week do you think we should have sex?"

Lord.

"We are not putting sex on a schedule, Parker," Eliot tells her. "Whatever happens, just fuckin' happens, kay?"

"But not until the two weeks are over?" Parker asks, pancakes in her mouth.

"Swallow your food."

Parker swallows and says, "I don't like Sophie's treatment plan. This is just as bad as when she confiscated my money. Except now she's confiscated your penis."

"I think it's stupid too," Hardison says, putting his two cents in on the matter, though still without looking at either of them. He's pressing the number two key like his life depended on it. "DAMNIT, FUCKING CAST."

"Weren't you the one that gave me that long speech about how people have more to offer me than just sex?"

"Yeah, well – _Damnit, you stupid Draenei bastard!_ - this is different. Before you were just having random sex for the hell of it. Now you're in a relation—_NO STOP DRAINING MY MANA!"_

Okay, clearly talking to Hardison right now was not working out. He had like road rage, only for gaming.

"You guys obviously are the worst babysitters ever."

"But Sophie doesn't have to know that," Parker tells him with a smile. "We can lie."

"Hardison can lie," Eliot corrects. "You can't."

"I can to!"

"Parker, you're voice goes an awkward pitch and you start fidgeting."

"I'm just antsy," she defends. Then she starts fidgeting and her voice goes to an awkward pitch, "That doesn't have anything to do with lying. Anything. At all. "

Right.

"Where is my Healer? We can't have five damn tanks, four DPS and not even one Healer!" Hardison exclaims outloud, though apparently to his computer because Eliot and Parker have no idea what he's on about. "Hate when people sign up for shit they don't fuckin'—" he mumbles, but Eliot and Parker have learned to ignore him by now.

Parker looks up at Eliot and asks, "Why can't we just tell Sophie?"

Eliot laughs, a very loud "HA!" before he says, "Right, tell Sophie. Go for it. See how well that one works out."

"Okay," Parker says, and reaches for her cell phone. That snaps Hardison out of the game, and snaps Eliot back into reality as they both yell "NO!" and reach for the phone.

"What?" Parker asks, as Eliot takes it away from her. "Why can't we tell Sophie?"

Hardison and Eliot look at each other. They are _not_ gonna have Sophie and Nate know that they're sleeping together. No effin way.

"Just… not right now, Parker," Hardison tells her softly while Eliot hides the phone from her. "Give us time to get used to this before we go and tell the whole world, okay?"

"Sophie is not the whole world," Parker says.

"No, but she's the queen of interventions. What if she thinks this 'isn't healthy'?" Eliot mocks with finger quotes. "Then we're all gonna be sat down, lectured, and then she'll attempt to split us up."

"Nate wouldn't like that."

"No, probably not. But have you seen what Sophie's got in her hands lately? Looks a whole lot like Nate's balls," Eliot tells her.

"Did she detach them??" Parker asks, half in horror and half in awe. Jeez.

"It's a figure of speech, Parker."

"Damnit, this raid has gone to shit and back," Hardison tells them as he quits his game. "Hell with this, half the people who signed up didn't show and the other half were fucking morons." He closes his laptop, and looks actually upset with the turn out.

"Cheer up," Eliot says, just cause it seems like the right thing to say. "You can gank them all later." Okay, he was trying too hard by using that word. That's a bit ridiculous, but it just came out.

Hardison looks amused. "Eliot, you don't gank your own faction."

Whatever.

**TBC…**


	19. The Nazi Invasion

**CHAPTER NINETEEN  
The Nazi Invasion**

"So… what was it like?"

"What do you mean?" Hardison asks as he looks up at him. He was laying on Eliot's chest, feet propped up on the coffee table as they watched the afternoon game while Parker was in the shower.

Eliot didn't really wanna say it, but he was curious. He ain't ever done it before after all. "You know… suckin' dick or whatever."

Hardison smiles, in this little way that implies Eliot's cute or something equally as horrible for asking that question. "I dunno, just… good, I guess."

"Good? You can't come up with anything better than that?" That didn't help him out in the slightest.

"Fun?"

"Was that a question?"

"No, Eliot it's… I dunno, why are you asking me? I just did it, and you know, I… liked it. I mean, how would you describe eating pussy?"

Eliot thinks for a minute, trying to find a suitable answer, but then he sighs and says, "Good. Fun. Yeah, okay, I get your point."

There's silence for a moment, before it's Hardison's turn to ask a question. "So… did you like it?"

"I think the fact that I came all over you and the fuckin' truck should have given you a clue, Hardison," Eliot tells him flatly. He means, come on, really? Was it not obvious? He's not a woman; he can't fake one of those.

"Shut up," Hardison says, and pushes him a little. But then he's back to asking, "But was I… any good?"

Eliot smirks and teases, "Are you being insecure?"

"Whatever. Says the guy who asks what it's like to give a blowjob, worried much?"

Okay, he has a point, but he sure as hell ain't gonna tell him that. So instead he just drops it and answers his question. "Yeah man, you were… you were really fuckin' good. Better than most chicks, surprisingly."

"Had practice," Hardison mumbles. Like he's embarrassed, but Eliot's eyes go wide. He had… _what?_

"You had _practice?_ WITH WHO?!" He pushes him off of him, pissed off all to hell now. Ever since Hardison came out of the freakin' closet he was with him, wasn't he? Not fuckin' exclusively or anything, not in so many damn words, cause hi, there's Parker, but he knew… whatever, right? RIGHT? What-the-fuck-ever the stupid SLUT.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on Eliot! I didn't suck anyone's dick, chill out!" Hardison cries, his hands up in the air in surrender. Eliot's breathing heavy, but he stops, and just blinks at him. Well that didn't make any fuckin' sense. Little shits gotta be lying.

"Well then how the fuck did you _practice?"_ Eliot mocks loudly. "With a fuckin' banana?!" Then he stops, cause Hardison's looking embarrassed again. Oh he didn't… "Did you seriously practice on a banana, dude?" He tries so hard not to laugh. So. Damn. Hard.

"It wasn't a _banana,"_ Hardison defends, and then looks down and mumbles something Eliot can't hear.

"What was that?"

"…Parker's sex toys…"

Okay, Eliot couldn't contain his laughter anymore. He tried, he tried so damn hard, even pressed his lips together so it wouldn't come out, but that only made it louder when it finally burst its way out of his mouth. "Her _sex toys?_ What did she_ teach_ you too?"

Hardison looks even more embarrassed, "Just shut up, okay?"

"Oh god, she taught you too, didn't see?" Eliot's laughing hard now, only at the mental picture in his head. Oh god, that's too fuckin' priceless. Hardison with a big dildo in his mouth and Parker coaching him. Ha!

"Fuck you Eliot," Hardison says, glaring at him as he gets himself off the couch. "Sorry I fuckin' tried to do something for you. Fuckin' be _good _for you. Clearly it's not appreciated."

Oh, damn.

"Hey man, hey! Hardison!" Eliot calls out after him as he walks away and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Oh shit. Damnit, why can't he just shut his mouth for once? He sighs and gets up off the couch, walking over to the bedroom door and knocking on it.

"Go away."

Why the hell is he knocking on his _own_ bedroom door? Eliot turns the handle and opens it, and see's Hardison laying on his bed on his stomach, his face facing the wall away from him.

"You're fucking hard of hearing too."

"No, I heard you, I just ignored it," Eliot clarifies, and he can hear Hardison mock him under his breath. Damn this kid. He sighs and crawls up on the bed behind him, and Hardison moves as far away as he can from him until he's almost off the edge. "Ain't no where left to go, gotta talk to me."

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, you remind me of that everyday, sometime's twice a day."

"Well then stop being one."

Eliot sighs, and puts his hand on Hardison's shoulder, but Hardison' shrugs it off. "Hey man, I'm tryin' to comfort you here, help if you fuckin' reciprocated to it."

"Just fuck off."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to laugh, it just sorta came out."

"Whatever."

Eliot sighs again, he clearly sucks at this. "Look… I uh, shit. Man, I ain't no good at this, and you're not helping. What do you want me to say? If it helps, I'm scared like hell to give you head cause I don't know how, alright?" Damnit, he fuckin' hates admitting shit like that.

That makes Hardison turn around, but only just a little. "You are?"

"Obviously, man. It ain't like I had any practice or anything, and I dunno if my pride can handle being shown by _Parker."_ Honesty sucks, just in case anyone's wondering. Unfortunately, it seems to be the only damn thing working right now.

Hardison turns a little bit more, and now he's facing him fully. "I can show you… if you want."

This is killing his pride, his ego, his fuckin' manliness right now. He shouldn't have to be taught anything. He fuckin' learned how to drive an automatic by himself, shouldn't he be able to learn how to drive a fuckin' stick?

"Hardison, I don't want— shit, I dunno man. I just wanna be able to do it, I don't wanna fuckin'—" not be able to make him cum. That would kill him. Shit, he hates this fuckin' conversation.

Eliot's really glad right now that Hardison isn't mocking him for being insecure just like he did to him. Man, he really is a fucking dick. Maybe he should be more thankful that Hardison isn't a bastard like he is.

"Eliot, you're really… hot, okay? Sexy as hell, and I really don't think you're gonna have a problem getting me off," Hardison tells him. Okay, Eliot feels a little better, but only a little.

Eliot doesn't answer him, just gives him a little smile, that might signify how unsure he still is about the matter. But he leans in and kisses him softly, just damn glad that Hardison ain't nothing like him. Honestly, he doesn't know why the hell he even likes him in the first.

Hardison' just… nice. How in the hell did he manage to end up getting' someone so fuckin' nice?

"Guys, my loofa's dead. Like on its back with its feet in the air, dead."

Right, that's how he got someone nice. He got someone weird to balance it out. But he smiles and turns around to look at her as she comes into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her. "Loofas don't have feet, Parker."

Parker just sighs like her cat died or something and flops down on the bed. "I liked it, it was blue. You don't find many blue ones anymore. Not that shade anyway. It was like also mixed with a pale green, but also a little bit of sunshine yellow." What the hell color is that?

"We'll get you a new one," Hardison tells her. "What eBay is for."

Parker sighs sadly again. "But it just won't be the same. We went through a lot together… all the good times…" Parker and a_ loofa_ went through a lot together. What the hell? She is just so damn… _insane._

But so is he for liking it.

"How exactly did you kill it?" He has no idea why he's participating in this conversation.

"I was just… washing…" Parker says in this funny tone. Eliot blinks.

"What, did it fall apart?" Hardison asks. "How did you manage that? How long have you had it?"

This is a stupid conversation. Eliot wants to get back to blowjobs.

"Only three weeks," Parker said, sighing again.

Eliot thinks it's pretty damn obvious how she destroyed it, and how she had so many 'good times' with it. Though growing attached to a loofa in three weeks is very inside the realm of weird and weirder.

"Three weeks and you've manage to tear it apart?"

"Dude, she was masturbating with it," Eliot says, just so done with this conversation. "Overuse. Can we get back to what we were talking about before?"

"You masturbate with a loofa?" Hardison asks her, cocking en eyebrow. "Isn't that a little… rough?"

"I like it that way," Parker tells him, still with her little sad look at the loss of it. But then she turns to Eliot, "What were you talking about before? And will you really buy me another one?"

"Parker, with two men you really shouldn't need a… loofa," Eliot tells her. Then he looks at Hardison.

"Blowjobs," Hardison tells her. Parker smiles.

"Oh, I like those. Is someone going to give one? Can I watch?"

"No, Parker, that's not—" Eliot says, but then stops and sighs. He doesn't know how to tell Parker that he's worried about not being able to do it. She's a woman.

Don't ask him how that makes a difference. But he looks at Hardison, and gives a nod of his head to have him help him out. If he can't say it, Hardison can.

"Eliot… isn't sure that he… uh, will be able to… perform… in… that… area…" Hardison says slowly, looking as Eliot the whole time to make sure he wasn't saying the wrong thing.

"Oh," Parker says with a smile. "Well I can teach you, I taught Hardison!"

"Parker, I really don't think I wanna stick a dildo in my mouth," Eliot tells her. Cause that's just kinda ridiculous.

Parker looks at him like that's a stupid idea as well. "Why would we do that? We have a penis right here." She turns to look at Hardison, "Hardison, take off your pants."

"What?"

"Your pants, Alec. Pants… down now. Come on," Parker says, waving her hand at him. Eliot had to smirk at that. Hardison's just blinking at her, until he finally started fumbling with the buttons on his pants. Hell, he would be stupid to pass up a blowjob.

But this is still kind of embarrassing. He doesn't exactly want to be taught in _front _of Hardison. The whole point is so that his first time is good, not be a fumbling wreck as he tries to learn.

"Parker seriously, I'm good— Hardison stop taking off your pants!" Eliot exclaims. Way too much shit this afternoon. Seriously.

Hardison stops, looking disappointed. Parker just looks narrows her eyes and turns to look at Eliot. "Well how do you expect to learn then?"

"Porn?" Hell, he can watch gay porn. Right? Or you know, watch some girl suck off a guy… only this time actually pay attention to how they do it rather than paying attention to what he's doing to his own dick.

Parker lets out an exasperated sigh. "Eliot, porn will not teach you the finer techniques of giving head."

"Finer techniques?" he half mocks.

"Ohh trust me, man. She's got technique," Hardison says with a little breath of remembrance. "Damn fucking fine ones…"

Eliot snaps in front of his glazed over eyes and Hardison shakes himself out it. "Back to earth now." Damn kid.

"Yes, there is a _technique_, Eliot. But fine, if you want to watch porn and try to figure it out yourself that way then fine… but when you wanna really learn, then you can come to me."

Wow. Parker is apparently a bit cocky about her abilities.

"Alright, let's put a video on."

"What? NOW?" Eliot asks Hardison, who seems far too interested in the idea of them all watching porn together.

Not that he can blame him. But this isn't for pleasure. He's _researching._

"Well yeah, what else do we have to do?" Hardison asks him, and Eliot doesn't have an answer for that. But seriously, these two were like freakin' horny rabbits. Can't they do this later? Just sit and chill for a minute? Cause he knows the second he puts on porn its gonna be all over… one of them is gonna get too horny.

"The games still on," Eliot tells him, but apparently his argument is worth shit, because Parker has stolen Hardison's computer and is sifting through his porn.

"Okay, we have 'Dude, Where's my Dildo?', 'Moulin Spooge', 'Hootie and the BlowJob'," and then she laughs, like the other ones weren't laughable before, "Oh my god… 'Willie Wanker and the Fudge Packing Factory?!'"

"Parker, get the hell out of my computer."

"No, no, this is great. Hold on, there's more…"

"PARKER!"

Eliot was laughing now, only cause… what the hell kind of porn does Hardison _watch?!_ He can't just have stuff called 'horny slut gets banged from behind?' That's the shit he finds on the internet… but then again he downloads shit for free. Even if he has money, there's no point to pay for porn. Really. Hardison on the other hand, seems to have the best collection of worst porn movie titles in the world.

Parker's still laughing and reading, "Oh, oh! 'All Anal on the Western Front'! Why don't I have porn like this? 'Hitler Sucks'? Oh, we should watch this one! Does the guy have a little mustache?"

"Parker, stop!" Hardison demands, and grabs the laptop out of her hands. Eliot's practically fuckin' rolling now.

"Dude… seriously?" Eliot manages to get out between laughs.

"Hey, ya'll can just fuck off, okay? They're just stupid titles… they're all still _porn."_

"Give it back, I wanna watch Hitler go down on one of his Nazis," Parker says, and makes a grab for the computer.

"Only if ya'll stop raggin' on me," Hardison says in a dangerous tone, and Eliot and Parker try very hard to stop laughing.

"Okay, okay," Parker says, and grabs the computer. She almost clicks on it when she tries… she tries_ so damn hard _to say in an even tone, "'May the Foreskin Be With You'?" Though she did let out a little tiny snort, but covered her mouth with her hand.

Eliot collapses face first into a pillow and bites it. He's gonna fuckin' blow with laughter. God, the fucking geek! For how funny it is right now, he kind of loves him for it.

"Shut. Up."

"Okay," Parker says, though she's still trying not to laugh. She takes a deep breath and clicks on one of the movies, and Eliot takes his head out of the pillow… until he sees a guy dressed like Hitler with the fuckin' mustache and everything, barking shit in (really bad) German to his little Nazi slut boys.

Damnit, he couldn't help it. He fuckin' laughed.

"That's it, we're done!" Hardison exclaims. But Parker knew it was coming, and jumps up with the laptop, out of his reach.

"No, we're watching it!"

"Parker, give me my computer _now."_

"But Hitler's supposed to teach Eliot how to give a blowjob!" Parker defends, and that makes Eliot laugh. God, he kinda fuckin' loves these people. Ain't never a dull moment.

"I thought you wanted to!" Hardison says, then, "Give me my computer, if I have to get it from you and it breaks I will _kill you."_

"Well then don't try to get it from me," Parker reasons, "Besides, I did want to, but clearly Hitler does a better job, see?" She turns the computer so they can see what's going on, and Eliot can't even begin to watch what he's doing to learn because he can't get past the whole Nazi thing. Its just too damn funny.

Eventually, Hardison did get his computer back. Eliot didn't learn how to give a blowjob that day, but it was still funny as hell, so he didn't mind so much. They did have to say sorry to Hardison for laughing so much, but after a lot of kissing from Eliot and puppy eyes from Parker, he eventually forgave them.

But that still kind of left Eliot in the dark when it came to the subject.

**TBC…**


	20. The Close Call

**CHAPTER TWENTY  
The Close Call**

Five days into this whole "treatment plan", Sophie decided that apparently what was needed was a house call, just to see how things were working out. Why she couldn't just call Parker or Hardison and ask was beyond him, maybe because she thought that they would lie for him if he threatened them enough. Which they would, lie for him that is, but not because they were being threatened. No, it'd just be for their own selfish purposes.

Unfortunately, the day Sophie decided to make her house call was the day Eliot finally decided to try giving Hardison head.

"Oh god… oh fuck, keep doing that… yeah, that's…_ damn_ Eliot…"

Apparently he wasn't as bad as he thought he was going to be. But then again, he did end up getting a little lesson from Parker while Hardison was in the shower that morning. He didn't want one, but that's what he gets for giving her a banana on her breakfast plate. Eliot doesn't think he'll ever look at bananas the same way again.

It was terrifying at first, but like he'll ever admit that. But his head was filled with thoughts of 'should I use my hands during it? How much tongue is too much? Is there even such a thing as too much? Should I play with his balls?' Seriously, his mind just wouldn't shut up. At least, not until Hardison's loud moans of approval gave him the confidence he needed to just go with his instincts.

Parker was on the other side of the bed, getting herself off as she watched. At first she was being a fuckin' life coach or whatever, trying to give Eliot pointers _while _he was doing it, but that stopped after Eliot flipped her the finger and Hardison told her that her technicalities were ruining the moment. She pouted, but decided to let them have their little accomplishment and just sit back and enjoy. And she was… enjoying, that is. Loudly.

"Yes, cum in his mouth Alec!" she encouraged as her digits worked at supplying her own pleasure inside of her body. "Cum all over his fucking face!"

Parker was… okay, Eliot's half convinced Parker used to be some kind of dominatrix porn actress. For someone so tiny, so loopy, so just out of it and weird normally… when she got in the bedroom she was like the slut from all of your favorite porn movies. It was weird at first to get used to, maybe just because of the shock of it. But the bitch was… kinda fuckin' dirty and very vocal about it. And it was all kinds of hot. She had like a damn switch and then she'd be someone completely different.

Normally Eliot does the ordering around in the bedroom. But when it came to Parker, he was willing to let her drive. He can't wait till they can dress her up in some tight little corset and thigh high boots. He might orgasm just from the sight of her. He would give her a whip too, just for the visual candy, but he's too afraid she'd actually try to use it. And no, he is not getting whipped, thank you very much.

Hardison was so close, so close Eliot could fuckin' taste it already… when the doorbell rang.

"SHIT," Parker gasps out, and actually does manage to have an orgasm in the nick of time. The lucky bitch. She shudders and gasps as she falls back down to earth, and as she breathes heavily she looks at the two of them. "What do we do?"

"Just… _oh fuck_… just get it, probably fucking… _Yes, ELIOT, GOD_… UPS or something…" Hardison manages to gasp out, his fingers digging into the bedding. Eliot was too into what he was doing to even give half a shit about who was at the door, though now he wishes his did.

"But what if its—?"

"JUST GO PARKER!" Hardison gasps out one last time, and Parker makes a face at him and waggles her a head a little in mocking as she picks herself up off the bed, pulls back on her jeans and leaves the room.

"God, Eliot don't stop…"

Like he was fucking planning on that. Please.

But then they hear Parker say _very _loudly, to make sure they would hear, "HI SOPHIE!"

But Hardison's too close to stop, he's on the brink and already starting to tumble over. Eliot takes his mouth off of his cock and says, "Shit," under his breath as he uses one hand to cover Hardison's mouth and the other to work him over the edge.

Hardison starts to cum, the sticky mess flying fucking, shit, everywhere (okay, maybe he's exaggerating a little, but that's what it seemed like under the current stressful situation). Eliot puts his hand over the head of his dick to stop it from becoming a bigger mess than it already is, and he can hear Hardison's muffled pants and cries from behind his hand.

"NO, SOPHIE!" They hear Parker yelling, again. The girl seriously needs to work on vocal tone. "COME WITH ME TO THE KITCHEN! LOOK WHAT I MADE!"

"Shit, get up," Eliot tells him in a whisper as he grabs the closest thing he can find to clean up with – one of his shirts – and wipes his hand and Hardison's lower body.

"Can't… move…"

"If you don't fuckin' get up and Sophie sees us like this—" Eliot starts, but apparently that's enough.

"I'm up, I'm up," Hardison says quickly and tries to find his pants.

"Here," Eliot says and picks them up, throwing them in his direction. Hardison_ just_ managed to put them on and look presentable, Sophie walks through the bedroom door.

"But see! It's a hundred dollar bill!" Parker tries, running in after her with her carved pumpkin in her hand.

Oh, so _that's _what it was supposed to be. Eliot peered at it. Still really didn't look like one.

"Bedrooms are private," Eliot growls at her as he stands up.

"And yet I see you have Hardison in here," Sophie says, in this tone of voice Eliot really doesn't like. It makes her seem like she knows things.

"I was borrowing some jeans," Hardison says quickly.

"What happened to your other ones?"

"I gave them to charity!" Parker announces forcefully, in that horrible way that she tries to lie. Shit, they're doomed.

Sophie cocks and eyebrow and turns around slowly to look at her. Parker noticeably swallows.

"That's so sweet to think of the underprivileged, Parker," Sophie says, and once again, Eliot hates her tone of voice, like she's playing along in some little game. "But what did you give that was _yours?"_

"Everything!"

Yeah, they're doomed.

"Ha, what Parker means is… she gave everything to charity that she brought with her _here_, not everything she owns of course, duh," Hardison tries to cover, and moves to take Parker by the shoulders and steer her out the door. "Come on Parker, since you gave everything away, lets go shopping for more clothes."

"Er, okay," Parker says, her whole body still twitching from the lie as she's steered out of the room.

Sophie looks at Eliot.

D-O-O-M-E-D.

"You have cum in your hair," she tells him flatly.

Shit. Eliot runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face while he goes into the bathroom, Sophie hot on his heels. "Yeah well, I have bad aim when I jack myself off," he tells her as he turns the water on in the sink.

"Eliot, I really wish you wouldn't lie to me like I'm stupid."

Eliot starts washing his hair and refrains from saying something like, 'But you are.' Because one, that's just false, and two, just plain bitchy. "I'm not fucking anyone," he tells her, because he's not. Once again, third base is_ not_ sex.

"You know, I might have believed that if I didn't walk in and hear someone have an orgasm while Parker loudly, and let me add, obnoxiously, try to cover it up," Sophie tells him. Does the woman have fuckin' bat ears or something?

"Like I said, I was jacking off," Eliot tells her.

"With Hardison in the room." Not even a question, just kind of a mock.

"I don't see why you're lecturing me when clearly Hardison's the one into voyeurism," Eliot says flatly, and grabs a towel to dry his now clean hair.

"If that's true, you're still the one who let him watch."

"He was in the closet, I didn't know. And frankly, you storming in didn't really allow for me to properly kick his ass for it," Eliot grumbles. He probably really shouldn't be blaming this whole thing on Hardison.

Sophie just stares at him, and their eyes meet. After her, Eliot is the best grifter in the group, and it's starting to show by how much Sophie clearly can't figure out if he's lying or not. Finally she asks, "Are you being serious?"

"No, actually I'm the one into exhibitionism, and I love having Parker and Hardison watch as I get myself off," Eliot says in an even tone. Now he's just trying to confuse her.

"Oh god, Eliot. Just stop! I don't know what the bloody hell you're doing, but Parker and Hardison are dating now, and you shouldn't be—"

"No, seriously. They both say the nastiest things you wouldn't_ believe _to cheer me on." You know how hard it is to try to screw with Sophie with a straight face? Really hard. But he knew if he didn't do it, and didn't make both sides of it sound convincing and yet mocking at the same time, Sophie would know what was going on. This way, she can't figure out if he's being serious or not, and gives her enough possibilities to not know which ones the truth.

"Okay, now you're just mocking me," Sophie says in a huff. "Fine, sorry I… okay, no. I'm not apologizing for that. I still know you're up to something, I just don't know what." A pause. "But I can find out."

"No mommy, please don't read my diary!" Eliot says in this desperate pleading tone in a little girls voice, and Sophie's eyes flash.

"This won't be my last visit," she warns. "And frankly, I'm disappointed in you, Eliot. I thought you would actually try and change."

Eliot doesn't say anything, for fear of blowing up and revealing too much. Instead he just shows her to the door, "Thanks for stopping by, Sophie. It's been a real pleasure." Ha.

Sophie stands in the doorway, just looking at him, like she's studying him. "I'll find out."

"Good luck with that."

Sophie flashes her eyes one more time before turning on her heel and leaving. Once Eliot closed the door, the hall closet door opens and Hardison and Parker stick their head out of it. "She gone?"

"What the hell are you doing in a closet? I thought you two left."

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Hardison defends as he tries to squeeze out of it.

"I made friends with a spider," Parker tells him, and that makes Hardison screech and jump head first out of the closet and dive onto the floor. Pansy.

"THERE WAS A SPIDER NEAR ME AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING?!"

"Relax, he's nice… see?" and she holds out her hand as she steps out of the closet, holding the said spider. Hardison scrambles backwards on his hands and knees away from it.

"ELIOT KILL IT!"

Oh, jeez.

"No! He never did anything to you!" Parker says, and takes a step back as she shields the spider with her other hand, protecting it.

"He _existsssss!"_ Hardison hisses, and points at it like it's the devil.

Man, he's such a mediator in this relationship, isn't he? "Parker, why don't we let your friend go outside, huh?" Eliot asks, and kind of nudges her towards the door. She thinks about this for a minute, then apparently decides it's a suitable arrangement because she starts walking towards the door.

Eliot opens it and follows her outside as she sits on the grass, the spider still in her hand. "This is where I leave you," she tells it, and places it on the ground. "Live long and prosper!" Oh jeez, what the hell is that that she's doing with her hand? This is Hardison's fault, he's sure of it.

"Okay, come on," he tells her, and extends his hand so she can grasp it to get back up. When she's finally reached a standing position, right up next to Eliot face to face, she sighs a little.

"I wish I could have seen him cum all over you," she says, like someone just stole the last cookie from her or something.

"Trust me, you'll have another opportunity to see that," Eliot tells her, but she still looks sad. "Hey," he says and kisses her lightly on the lips. "Smile, okay? Not seeing an orgasm is not the end of the world."

"Yeah… okay…" Parker says, and bobs her head a little back and forth before letting a sly smile creep across her face.

He takes her back inside, and Hardison looks up from the couch like he's a bit wary, "Spider gone?"

"Yeah," Eliot says, and Hardison looks relieved. Parker jumps over the edge of the couch to sit next to him, and is about to tell her to not use his furniture as a vault but he knows it'll just be pointless, so the hell with it. He sits down next to her.

"What did you tell Sophie?" Hardison asks, and that makes Parker turn around.

"I lied okay, right?" she asks.

No. No Parker, you did not. "Er, yeah."

"Really?"

"No. No, not really."

"Does she know?" Hardison asks, more impatient this time. Worried. Maybe even paranoid. He wrings his hands together.

"She thinks she knows something, she just don't know what. I confused her enough times for her to not know what the hell is actually going on."

"So we're good?" Hardison asks.

"No," Eliot says, and sighs a little. "She'll find out eventually, guarantee that. But for right now, yeah we're fine."

"Why can't we just tell her?" Parker asks, a little bit of whine in her voice. "All this lying is _stressful._ If I lose my hair… actually no, that wouldn't be that bad. I can get a pink wig or something." She smiles, managing to lose herself in her own world mid sentence. But that was Parker. "Maybe blue…"

Hardison looked at Eliot, and their eyes meet. _They _knew why they didn't want Sophie, or Nate, to know. Embarrassment. Plain and simple embarrassment. Sure, they can go out with each other in front of people they don't know. That's easy. But if they tell them, they'll expect PDA… and that's just weird. They ain't ready for all that. And while they could just make the choice not to do it, with Parker in the mix? It gets a little more difficult.

But they both knew they would have to be honest about it, one day. But that day was not today.

**TBC…**


	21. The Insecurity

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE  
The Insecurity**

"She did something, I know it. I _feel _it."

"Jesus, Hardison, you're being paranoid," Eliot says as he watches the boy search the room, convinced Sophie did something while she was here like plant a hidden camera or something, like she actually had time to do that or something.

"Come to bed," Parker pouts, holding the covers up to her chin.

"I'm not being paranoid," Hardison says, searching the walls. "She left here too easily."

Jeez.

"Hardison, get your ass into this bed. If you make me get up—"

"One minute."

This is ridiculous.

Eliot sighs and throws the covers off of him, and his feet hit to the cold floor. He wants to be sleeping right now, not executing physical force. "Hardison, you have three seconds."

"Eliot, can you just give me one minute please?"

"One." Hardison continues to search the walls. "TWO." Hardison's still ignoring him. "Fine. Three," Eliot says, and comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist… and picks him up.

"ELIOT! Let me down! I'm not some kind of child that you can just—"

But he's interrupted as Eliot throws him on the bed, and climbs in next to him. Hardison tries to get up, but Eliot hovers over him and puts a hand on his chest and holds him down. "No, it's time to fuckin' sleep, Hardison."

"Eliot…"

"SHHHH," Parker hisses really loudly, and covers Hardison's mouth with her hand. Hardison's eyes go wide. "SLEEPING. TIME." Hardison just nods mutely under her hand. "Good. Now take off your pants, your jeans are scratching my legs."

What would he do without Parker? Hardison apparently only listens to her, and Eliot has the sneaking suspicion its out of fear. Though why he'd be afraid of _her _and not _him,_ he has no idea. Then again, he might have a little fear of Parker too. But it's that kind of fear that's not really bad or anything. It's the one where you know they have control, and you better listen or else. Which, now, come to think of it, reminds him of his freaking mother.

Wow, he doesn't wanna dwell on that one.

Eliot doesn't know what woke him up in the middle of the night, but it was probably the bathroom light. Eliot grumbles sleepily and pulls himself out of bed, cussing under his breath. He coulda swore he didn't leave the damn thing on. But as he walks into the bathroom and has his hand raised in the air to flip the switch, he pauses.

Parker looks up at him from inside the bathtub. But she isn't taking a bath… she's just sitting there, naked, legs curled up to her chest. Eliot blinks at her for a moment, wondering if he's hallucinating in his half awake state. "Parker?" he asks, sleepily.

"Hi," she says in a small voice. She fidgets a little, but doesn't really look at him.

"What are you doin' in there?" he asks, and leans down to sit on the edge of the tub next to her. "And why are you naked?" Not that Parker really needed a normal reason to do anything, half the time she never did. But hell, this might be the time where something she does actually makes some sort of sense. He runs his fingers through her hair. Something was up.

Parker shrugs lightly. "Went to bed this way," she tells him, but doesn't answer his other question.

Eliot doesn't say anything for a little bit, but watches her. She looks so… small. "You wanna take a bath?" Parker just shrugs, and lets out a little breath. "Let's take a bath," Eliot says, and stands back up to slide off his boxers before turning on the water in the tub.

Parker just sighs.

He doesn't like this Parker. Something's wrong with her, and not in the usual way. As the bath water fills up, he scootches her forward so he can climb in behind her. She leans against his chest, and the only thing that can be heard is the sound of the running water.

"I want bubbles," she says finally.

"I don't have bubblebath."

Parker doesn't answer him, just picks up a bottle of shampoo and starts squeezing it into the running water until small bubbles start to form. Then she turns off the water, sits back, and sighs again. Eliot's hating this silence. Parker usually never shuts up.

"You're getting hard," Parker tells him, as she notices it against her back.

"You're naked, it happens."

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

"No, darlin'. I want you to tell me what's wrong," Eliot says, and wraps his arms around her torso, running his fingers across her stomach under the water.

"It's stupid."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Parker rolls her eyes and little and settles into him more, turning her head to lay on his shoulder, her face in his neck. "Nightmares," she tells him. "I know that's dumb. But I have them all the time. I just want them to go away."

"It ain't dumb, honey. Everyone get's nightmares," Eliot tells her, looking down at her. Her eyes flutter up to look at him.

"Even you?"

Eliot smiles, like the thought of him not having nightmares in his line of work is amusing, because it is. "Yeah, even me."

Parker purses her lips together and nods, wrapping and arm around Eliot's waist. Eliot thinks he's fixed everything (go him) when she says, "Tell me I'm pretty."

"What?"

Twilight zone. Parker became a girl. Hold on. Back up. Rewind.

"Tell me I'm pretty. Don't you think I am?" she asks, and sits up more to look at him.

Eliot blinks at her. How the hell did they switch subjects so quickly? "Yeah… yeah of course I do, Parker. You're beautiful." Because she… she is. She's really beautiful. But what's with this sudden insecurity?

Oh no, is she on her rag? Oh lord…

Parker licks her lips nervously, and Eliot's wondering what's going through her mind. Finally she asks in a small voice, "Then why do you like him better?"

Oh shit. See? He knew this was going to happen.

"Parker, I don't like either of you better than the other," Eliot tells her. Shit. This… okay this sucks. Awkward three in the morning relationship conversation. Not. Liking. It.

"Yeah you do, you're always touching him more," she says. "And you always wanna do sexual things with him more than me."

She's gotta be on her rag.

"Parker, if you want to go down that route… you and Hardison have had sex together, as in without me present. And let me remind you that I_ heard_ you two when I was watching the Celtics game, so it wasn't just before we were all together," Eliot tells her. And frankly, as much as he thought it would bother him… it actually didn't. That's when he figured that it might work after all. But now with Parker…

"So?"

"So if anyone has an insecurity issue here, it should be me with you guys."

"Do you?" she asks, looking at him like she's trying to know the answer before he reveals it.

"No," he tells her, honestly. She blinks, like she's surprised that it came out so honest, and then she nods a little. There's silence, and Parker isn't letting him know what the hell's going on inside of her head, so he asks, "We good? You better now?"

"Yeah," she says, but just as Eliot relaxes, these emotions or thoughts, or hell just something, flashes across her face and she takes it back. "No."

Damnit.

"Then what…?"

Parker turns around to face him then, so fast that it makes the water swish and splash out of the tub. She looks in his eyes as she accuses, though in a monotonic voice that creeps him out. "You only fucked me that night because I was naked and easy, and you only fuck me now because I come attached to Alec."

Eliot blinks at her, and then the angry part of him starts to ignite, or maybe that's the offended part. They all feel the same. Who cares if she's on her rag and all emotional, he is_ not_ gonna take that. "That's not…! Parker, are you fuckin' serious? You really think that's what this is?"

"Yes."

Yeah, alright, this was making him mad now. He likes Parker, he fucking _likes_ her. And yeah, maybe he never thought he would and yes_ maybe_ she was right about the sex the first time. She was naked and she was easy and he just took it. But that is _not_ the case now! And he's fucking offended if she thinks that he's in this little relationship with the three of them just because he thinks it'll be fuckin' easier or something than just trying to steal Hardison away from her.

Which he wouldn't do, just for the record. Not that he couldn't, but he wouldn't.

And what was making him even madder about this? He had NO idea how to fix it. Comfort is not his strong point.

"Parker, you're… you're just fuckin'… you're..."

"See, you can't even think of a word to—"

Fuck this. "You are fuckin' amazing, okay?!" Eliot bursts out, and Parker blinks. But he isn't done. "You are one of the most talented people I have ever met. You're fuckin' smart, you're damn beautiful, and I still have no fucking idea why you – either of you – want me, okay? So just stop fuckin' thinking that you're not special to me, cause you are. OKAY? SHIT, PARKER."

Damn. Feelings. He hates expressing though. It makes his stomach feel like he's gonna be sick.

"What the hell are ya'll screaming about?" Hardison asks as he sleepily stumbles into the bathroom. Shit.

"Sorry man, I didn't mean to wake you up," Eliot apologizes, and then just sighs and leans his head back against the tile heavily. There was a bit of a smacking sound, and Parker's eyes go wide. "I'm fine," Eliot says automatically.

"So what's going on?" Hardison asks with a yawn, looking at the two of them in the tub.

"Eliot likes me," Parker says with a smile, suddenly chipper. Well hey, at least he fixed it. Fucking hormones.

"And that's why ya'll were screaming?" Hardison says, looking at them like they both went insane. "Well then don't like each other anymore so I can get some sleep." And then he shuts off the light on them, his little way of saying 'fuck you, I'm tired' and leaves. They can hear the bed squeak in the bedroom as he flops back down.

Silence.

"It's dark," Parker says, stating the obvious.

"Yeah."

More silence, and Parker moves back over in the tub to lean against him again. "We should go to bed."

"Probably a good idea."

But neither of them move. Parker turns her head and looks up at him, her hand raising up to brush his hair out of his face. He gives her a little smile, not really knowing what she's up to, before she slowly presses her lips against his. It wasn't like any of her other kisses, her kisses that are rushed, needy, desperate, and passionate. This was soft, this was… almost like a word he is_ so_ not going to use right now.

She turns and straddles him, making the water move around them. But they're just kissing, and it's weird that Parker doesn't seem to have any other ulterior motives. But it's nice… it's really nice. Her hands are in his hair, and while the kissing's getting deeper, and hell, he's getting harder (he can't help it, blame the nakedness), she doesn't go for his dick. She just kisses him, like she's never kissed him before in his life.

And then they break, and she's breathless for a moment, beautiful in the dim light, her hair hanging down her shoulders only half wet from being submerged and she whispers, "Tell me I'm beautiful again."

The way she says it, it's almost as if she's never been called beautiful before in her life outside of her and Hardison. It almost makes him wonder…

"You're beautiful," he tells her, not dwelling on his thoughts right now, and she smiles and her lips meet his again, pressing his back up against the tile again. It may have been ten minutes, or maybe twenty, or maybe even just five before they break again, and she snuggles back into his chest.

The water's starting to get cold, but neither of them move. "Parker?" he asks in a soft voice. She looks up at him. He's not sure if he should ask this question, but he thinks he needs to. Just to know what exactly he's working with here. "Have you ever had a relationship before?"

Parker chews on her bottom lip a little and shrugs. "I've had sex."

"That's not what I asked."

She sighs a little before she admits, "No…"

He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and she looks down into the water, seemingly embarrassed. "Hey," he says softly and she looks up at him. "We won't hurt you," he promises. She looks at him for a long time, as if seeing if she can detect any hint of a lie. And then she smiles, slowly at first, until it lights up her whole face.

Finally they both fall asleep, both still naked and damp from the tub, her in between him and Hardison on the bed. And for the first time Eliot has ever seen, Parker falls asleep with a smile on her face.

However, the next morning, something happened that made the smile go away… and her "special angry place" to rear it's ugly head again.

**TBC…**


	22. The Exposure

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO  
The Exposure**

"Oh no."

"Have I ever told you how much I hate when you say that?" Eliot tells him from in the bedroom, putting away their laundry. There's never an excuse to be messy, but Parker doesn't seem to understand that.

"Oh _no."_

"HARDISON."

Hardison pokes his head out of the bathroom, with the biggest oh no face Eliot thinks he's ever seen on him. He puts the laundry down on the bed and looks at him, knowing he's about to tell him something that's potentially gonna make the world crumble around them. "What?"

"You remember when Parker ran out of here and out the door?" he asks slowly, fiddling with something in his hand.

"Yes, seeing as it only was a half an hour ago." Seriously. He hates when Hardison gets like this. How hard is it to just get to the point?

"And you remember you saying I was paranoid?"

Oh no.

"Hardison, get to the point, and get to it quickly," Eliot says as he starts to walk over the man, picking up his coat from off of the bed, just _knowing_ he was about to have to run out the damn door.

"Well…" Hardison says, and holds up what he had in his hand.

Oh… shit.

"Please don't tell me that's a bug."

"Okay, it's not a bug, and I didn't find it laying on the sink, where Parker _didn't_ put it after she found it."

"DAMNIT, HARDISON," Eliot growls and runs his fingers through his hair as he starts heading towards the door, Hardison behind him. "Why didn't you find that when you were being all paranoid scavenger last night?! Where the hell is Sophie right now? Fuck, Parker's gonna explode all over the bitch if she hasn't already."

"I didn't check the bathroom! I thought she just was in the bedroom with you!"

"Why didn't you ask Parker where she was going?!" Eliot fumes, opening his truck door and getting in the drivers seat. He starts the engine just as Hardison gets in.

"Why is that _my_ responsibility? She's a big girl; I figured she just went out to steal something!" Hardison yells back.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING?"

"Try Nate's, she's always over there," Hardison says, and Eliot steps on the gas. God, that fucking… _bitch_. She stooped as low as planting a BUG?! This is nine shades of fucked up, and what's worse is that if she listened to last nights tape, then she heard the entire fucking conversation between him and Parker. Parker doesn't share much, and sharing something unwillingly was bound to piss her off to holy hell and back.

Usually it takes twenty minutes to get to Nate's. Today? It took seven.

They could hear the yelling from the hallway. "Shit," Eliot swears under his breath and rushes over to the door, Hardison right behind him. Eliot had absolutely no idea how the hell he was gonna stop this disaster, but hell, least he can make sure Parker isn't carrying any sharp objects.

When Eliot opens the door, Sophie's backed up against the counter in Nate's kitchen, seeming to be avoiding Parker behind the island counter who's screaming at her like it's going out of style. Nate seemed like he was trying to get close to Parker to calm her down, but kept taking steps back like he's afraid she's gonna spontaneously combust and kill everyone within a ten foot radius.

"YOU TAKE AWAY EVERYTHING!" Parker screams at her, the fury written all over her face, her knuckles white from gripping the island counter so hard. "YOU TOOK AWAY MY MONEY, YOU TOOK AWAY HARDISON'S PRIVACY, YOU TOOK AWAY NATE'S BALLS, AND YOU'RE TAKING AWAY ELIOT'S _DICK!"_ Oh. Shit. Yup, this isn't going so well. "AND I WANT HIS DICK, DAMNIT!"

"Parker, please calm down," Sophie says, her hands up in the air as she goes the opposite way around the counter that Parker's going. "I was just trying to help—"

"BY SPYING ON HIM? ON _US?!_ WHAT WE DO IS NONE OF YOUR BUISNESS, SOPHIE!"

"Parker!" Eliot and Hardison yell at the same time, and her head turns to look at the two of them. But her fury doesn't soften, doesn't waver. She's pissed and nothing is gonna fix it.

"I'M HANDLING THIS."

Yeah, not in the best way.

"Parker, hey… calm down…" Hardison tries, taking a couple steps towards her. Bad idea.

"I SAID I'M HANDLING THIS!" she screams at him, and Hardison takes a couple steps back. Wise move. Parker in this state doesn't seem to quite understand that there's a difference between friend and foe. She's just built to destroy at this point. She's exposed, vulnerable from being spied on, and her first reaction is to eliminate the person that made her feel that way.

"Parker, I know this is hard for you to understand, but Eliot could have taken advantage of you and Hard—"

"ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED?!" Parker screams, and Sophie scared look changes to one of scared and offended, and also surprised. "ELIOT IS OUR _BOYFRIEND._ AS IN WE ALL GO ON DATE'S TOGETHER AND WE ALL ARE GONNA HAVE SEX WITH EACH OTHER, OKAY?! ELIOT DIDN'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF _ANYTHING!_ WE SEDUCED_ HIM!"_

"You take this side, and I'll circle around," Eliot whispers under his breath to Hardison, not even caring right now what Parker's revealing to both Sophie and Nate, cause that seriously is not his main concern right now.

"To do _what?"_ Hardison whispers, looking at him like he's insane.

"We need to grab her before she gets her hands on Sophie." Frankly he's surprised she hasn't vaulted the counter yet. But it's a good thing she hasn't – means she's still exercising isome/i self control.

"You might have a death wish, but I don't," Hardison protests softly, looking at Parker like she's some kind of upper level elite monster in his little game.

Don't look at him like that, Hardison's trying to corrupt him. Obviously.

"Relax, I'll get her arms, you just focus on her legs," Eliot tells him, and starts moving towards Parker without getting confirmation from Hardison. He was going along with this whether he likes it or not.

"Okay, okay I'm sorry, Parker…" Sophie says, hands up in surrender. "I just worry about you, and what you may think is a relationship might not actually be one because you've never…" Sophie trails off, but Parker knows what she was about to say. She knows she was about to reveal that she listened to last nights recording, when Parker told Eliot that she's never had a relationship before. She just screwed herself in a major way, basically.

"I… HATE YOU," she says slowly, dangerously. "I _trusted _you, and you just came in and fucking… DESTROYED _EVERYTHING!_ STAY OUT OF MY BUISNESS, STAY OUT OF _EVERYONE'S_ BUISNESS! You think we have problems? LOOK AT YOURSELF! Just fucking LOOK IN THE MIRROR! You're more screwed up than the rest of us, Sophie, Catherine, _FUCKING WHOEVER YOU ARE!"_

Eliot signals to Hardison, who's still looking wary of this whole ordeal. But Parker's hands that are gripping the counter are now curling, like she has claws, and Eliot watches her whole body posed, like she's ready to spring. It's now or never.

Eliot really doesn't want to just… jump her like this, but he weighed the pros and cons of not restraining her, and the possibly scenarios that played in his head if they didn't made him think to hell with it, they're gonna have to hold her until she calms down. The scenarios in his head where she isn't restrained always ended in some sort of violence, because she's seriously like a trapped wild animal right now. Exposure like that makes people lash out in whatever way they can to protect themselves, and they didn't need the casualties.

He goes for one arm, and almost misses the other. She's defensive, and once she's realize she's being held back her instinct is to fight. She does manage to elbow him in the ribs, but he takes it. "LET ME GO!" she screams… and kicks Hardison right in the chest.

Hardison gets the wind knocked out of him, but when she goes to kick again he grabs both of her feet and they settle her on the ground. "Parker! Parker, calm down!" Hardison tries.

Parkers struggling against them, but Eliot and Hardison have the advantage. "Shhh, come on girl calm down, please chill out…" Eliot whispers in her ear, but his grip with her arms behind her back firmly in place.

"Let go of me!" she yells again, but its not at loud, not as fighting anymore. She tries to get loose, tries to kick again, but the fights slipping out of her.

"Baby, its okay, come on…" Hardison tells her soothingly, and Parker's bottom lip noticeably trembles, even though anger is still written all over her face. "Come on, it'll be okay, Parker please…"

Parker chokes back a sob, and screams again, but it's out of enraged defeat as she suddenly still. Eliot lets go of her arms and wraps his around her, and when Hardison lets go of her legs he comes up to wrap her in a hug too. "I hate her…" she whispers, holding onto the two men. She's shaking, maybe an aftershock of her rage, but that just makes them hold on to her tighter, not giving half a fuck about Sophie and Nate knowing anymore.

Parker was hurting, and they had to fix that, above everything else.

"Parker…" Sophie tries, and starts to come over to them.

"Stay away from her," Eliot growls at her, and Sophie stops mid stride, and for the first time in his life… he sees Sophie look devastated.

"But I just…"

"Sophie," Nate says, and she looks over at him. He shakes his head. "Just leave them alone."

Sophie bites the inside of her cheek, and Eliot can see her let out a heavy breath before her eyes flicker over to look at Eliot. "I'm sorry…" she says softly.

Eliot doesn't say anything, doesn't even acknowledge her apology. He just doesn't wanna deal with any of that in front of Parker. He rubs Parker's arms softly, then lets one fall slowly down until he's grasped her hand tightly. "Come on," he tells her as her and Hardison help her up. "Let's go back to my house."

Parker nods slowly, and when she's standing, he nods at Hardison. "Take her back there," he says, and hands him the keys to his truck and to his house. "I gotta deal with…"

Hardison nods, and wraps his arms around Parker's shoulders and steers her out of the apartment. Eliot closes the door behind them and looks at the two people left in the room. "Nate, I know it's your house but can I get a second alone with Sophie?"

"Yeah," Nate says, for once not bitching about people in his apartment. He looks at Sophie, and he looks… disappointed. As he should be.

When he leaves, Sophie tries to talk, but Eliot holds up his hand. "Just don't," he says, and she closes her mouth. "You have no idea what you just did, do you?"

"I was just—"

But Eliot doesn't wanna hear her fucking voice right now. "You know how fuckin' hard it is for that girl to share anything about herself? And look what you fuckin' did! You spied on her, made her feel fuckin' violated – and me too, by the way – and you just proved to her that yeah, maybe sharing ain't the best idea ever. Way to go."

"Eliot…"

But he isn't done. "Look, I'll give you the fact that yeah, maybe I did have a problem, okay? I'll admit to that. But what I got going on with Parker and Hardison…. It ain't like that, okay? So just back the hell off of me, and leave them out of this."

Sophie goes to open her mouth to say something, but Eliot interrupts her again, "And if you say one word about this three-way relationship not being healthy, or just fucking how it ain't gonna work, or whatever the hell else… just keep your damn opinions to yourself."

"I wasn't going to say that."

Eliot looks at her, and cocks an eyebrow at her. He doesn't believe that for a second. Sophie sighs.

"I don't get it, alright? I don't bloody understand how you can be with two people at once and everyone's okay with it. I worry about Parker because she's so…" Sophie sighs again, "She's like a child sometimes. And Hardison, he's young too, doesn't know what he wants and has been going through something really confusing for him."

A pause. "And me?" he asks slowly.

"I don't worry about you, Eliot. You can take care of yourself. Out of all of us, you're the one who, for the most part, has their shit together," Sophie tells him, and Eliot's eyebrows raise. He wasn't expecting that.

"Then why did you try to 'fix me'?" he accused in a low voice, still thinking she's a bit of a liar.

"Because you could have _so much more than that,"_ Sophie stresses, and for once actually looks like she's genuinely meaningful with her words. "You underestimate yourself, Eliot. But I guess… I guess you found it. So I'm happy for you."

Eliot looks at her skeptically.

"I mean it."

Eliot looks at her, trying to figure her out. He doesn't know how to deal with this side of Sophie though, mainly because she was the enemy for the last week. So he chooses to just not deal with it right now, "It won't be this easy with Parker," he tells her. Not exactly a 'you're forgiven', because she's not, but just that… he understands her side. Somewhat.

"Or Hardison," she says.

"Yeah," Eliot says softly, and his eyes flicker to the door, thinking about them. He wanted to be home. Curl up into fucking bed, have him and Hardison put their arms around Parker and just make all this shit just go away.

"Go to them," she tells him, and when he looks at him, she nods at the door. Their eyes lock for a moment, and then he nods slowly.

Hopefully Sophie didn't do any permanent damage to his… girlfriend.

**TBC…**


	23. The Panic Attack

**A/N:** Just so everyone is aware, most likely I will not be stating specifically what Parker went through as a child. I've written about it before in other stories, and while they aren't all the same they still have a very general theme. So take this, take the fact that she can't get pregnant, and draw your own conclusions. I'm just saying that because people have asked me.

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE  
The Panic Attack**

The first sight he saw when he walked into his house was Hardison rushing towards the door after he heard it open. Eliot looked at the man, at the pained and distressed look he had plastered all over his face, and Eliot's stomach dropped six feet under him. There was only one word, one word that didn't need to be said, because it already spoke volumes on his face.

"Help."

Eliot doesn't remember his feet carrying him into the bedroom, but he found himself standing there in the threshold of the doorway almost instantly, looking at something he wish he could find a way to erase from his memory.

He can't even describe it, its too… heart wrenching, horrific, painful. Parker, a strong woman a few years shy of thirty, was curled up at the base of the bed in a fetal position, and Eliot can see the small tremors of involuntary muscle twitches that are spasming through her body. He can hear her hard bursts of breath, noises that sounds painful to force up her lungs. Her arms moving, only barely, tucked underneath her body. She's staring straight at the far wall, barely blinking. Breaking.

She's having a panic attack.

"When did this start?" Eliot asks, still unmoving. He's dealt with panic attacks before, and everyone's different. He doesn't want to stride right up to her without knowing what he's dealing with.

"I-I dunno, about ten minutes ago?" Hardison says, strain obvious in his voice. "We were just talking, and then she just… broke, I dunno man. I tried to touch her and she… she screamed and curled more into herself. She won't talk, she just stares and shakes, I don't know what to do!" Hardison's looking at him in desperation to fix her.

Eliot had to remind himself to breath, and after he takes a breath he asks, "What happened right before the attack? Exact words. This is important."

"I.. uh, I dunno, I…" Hardison starts to say, thinking, as he wrings his hands together nervously and starts to pace. "I said something about how it was wrong how Sophie violated our privacy like that, and she just… started rambling about cameras and lies and disgusting… disgusting…"

"Disgusting what?"

"Habits? I don't know, she just was talking so fast I could barely keep up and then she just… this." He looks at Eliot, his eyes portraying so much sadness. "Eliot, I don't know what to do…"

Eliot bites the inside of his lip, and looks down at Parker. Shit. He slowly makes his way over to her, crouching down in front of her, but he doesn't touch her. He makes sure to stay a respectable distance away, not wanting to threaten her. "Parker? Parker, it's Eliot. Hey darlin', can you look at me for a second please?"

But Parker doesn't look, doesn't blink, just keeps staring, her ragged breathing the only noise to be heard in the room. He can see how tense her muscles are in one arm, and he knows he needs her to untangle herself from this ball. She's gripping something, and she's gripping it hard. She could be cutting off circulation. "Okay, hey girl… can you blink for me? Blink if you know it's me."

Parker shakes some more, but then suddenly she forces a blink. It's hard, cold, so distant, but it was there. "Okay good, good Parker…" Eliot says in a soothing voice. "You're safe here, okay. I promise you that, me and Hardison will never let anything bad happen to you. But you need to breathe, sweetie. Can you do it with me? In through your nose, out through your mouth. We'll count them, okay? It'll be a like a game. Can you do that for me?"

Parker doesn't do anything for awhile, but then she blinks hard again. "Okay," Eliot says, and takes a deep breath through his nose and out his mouth, "One," he says, encouraging Parker to mimic. She's always been good at mimicking. In through his nose, out through his mouth one more time, and this time he can see Parker start to do it. "Good, two…"

They got to fifteen before Parker started breathing more regularly. "See? Everything's fine here, you're okay here. Can you nod?" Parker curls more into herself, but nods. Her eyes are starting to look at him now, instead of just staring at the wall. Slow progress, but progress none the less.

After a minute of regular breathing, her looking at him, and the shaking starting to subside slowly, he says, "I'm going to touch you now, okay?"

Parker's eyes go wide, like she forgets where she is for a moment. But then the fear slips away from her eyes and Eliot can see the strength behind them as she nods, allowing him to do so. Something that in this moment, is very hard for her.

He smiles at her, reassuring her, as he gently untangles her from herself. As he gets to her arms, sitting her back up, he holds out one of her wrists. "Hardison, get the antiseptic," he tells him softly, and Hardison runs into the bathroom.

"Darlin', you dug your nails in too hard when you were holding yourself, so we're going to clean you up, okay?" he tells her, and she just nods mutely. It wasn't anything really bad per say, it wasn't bleeding in any kind of massive way, but she did break the skin. And since he's sure she didn't wash her hands right before this, something like that can get infected really easily.

When Hardison comes back with the antiseptic, he takes Parker's wrist from Eliot gently and starts to apply it. Parker's eyes are beginning to move more, now looking at Hardison, to Eliot, down to the little cuts on her wrist. When her eyes flicker back up to look at Eliot under her eyelashes, he can see her take a shuddered breath and tremble all through her body, before closing her eyes as trying to get herself under control.

"You're strong, remember that," Eliot tells her softly. "They're just memories, okay? Nothing more than the past."

Hardison looks at Eliot, probably wondering how he knew that was what's wrong with her. But he didn't know, not really. Just a feeling, a guess. Something horrible and unspeakable happened to that woman when she was a child, and though Eliot is sure she will never let either of them know what it is, he still know it exists, and therefore needs to acknowledge it.

H e won't leave it like this though. He'll find out, fuckin' trust him on that. He'll find out who did this to her and he'll make sure he can finally give Parker piece of mind. He won't ask, he won't pry… but he'll find out. A promise he'll sign in blood if he has to.

After Hardison has finished wrapping her wrist, Parker took back her hand and curled it back into herself, tight to her chest. "Are you alright?" Eliot asks her carefully, and she looks at him, and then over to Hardison. She slowly scoots to her left until she's leaning against Hardison's chest, and as he wraps her arms around her, she holds out her hands for Eliot.

He's not exactly sure how to take that gesture, but he'll consider it a plus that she wants to be touched now. He takes her hands and she pulls him over to her, guiding him down so that his head is laying in her lap. Okay, kind of the opposite than what he was expecting, but hell, if it'll make her feel better. He's never really laid his head in anyone's lap before, it's always been kind of a woman thing. But she sighs a little and starts to run her fingers though his hair softly, and Eliot realized it was kind of nice.

Finally she spoke, but it was in this very even monotone, like she was reading something. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl," she tells them, and both Eliot and Hardison look up at her, knowing to say nothing. She doesn't look at them, just looks out the far window as she strokes Eliot's hair, leaning hers against Hardison's shoulder. "Her room was very tiny, very cold. A monster used to watch her from the shadows, and make the world black."

Eliot isn't sure how healthy disassociating with this is for her, but he can hardly believe that she's talking about it, even in this way. But she apparently thought twice about going on, and as her hand stops running through his hair, emotions flash across her face and she says, "The end."

Eliot and Hardison know not to pry. There' silence for a while, until Hardison tells her, "There are no monsters here."

She looks at him, and she smiles, only a little. Barely there, but it was such a relief to see that it shone from her face. "I know," she says, and then looks down at Eliot. He smiles at her softly.

Parker takes a deep breath, and purses her lips together. "I'm sorry," she says, which makes Eliot sit up and turn to look at her.

"There ain't nothing to apologize for, darlin'."

She shrugs a little, and Hardison tightens his hold around her before kissing her on the forehead. "Don't ever be sorry for having feelings."

"I don't like them."

Hardison smirks a little and says, "Sure you do, without feelings then you wouldn't be so happy with us." A pause, then a look a doubt. "You _are_ happy with us, right?"

That makes Parker giggle, and Eliot's never been so glad to hear a sound like that in his entire life. "Yeah, I'm happy."

"Can we get off the floor?" Eliot asks. It was starting to hurt his back.

"Yeah," Parker says, and Hardison helps her to her feet. Eliot gets up and flops back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Man, what a fucking day. He closes his eyes, before he lets out a "oof!" as the wind is knocked out of him and he pops his eyes open. Parker just jumped on top of him, giggling.

"Don't go to bed, we haven't even had dinner," she tells him.

"I wasn't, just closin' my eyes," Eliot protests, but Parker doesn't get off of him, instead chooses to lay her head on his chest. Hardison smiles at the two of them, ruffles Parker's hair a little, and then gets up to get his laptop. Man, it's like the man is glued to the damn thing.

"Come on man, don't get on that thing. We won't see you again for like fuckin' hours," Eliot tells him.

"He likes it," Parker tells Eliot, like he needs to learn and accept that fact. "It makes him happy, playing with imaginary things."

"Hey, its not imaginary," Hardison tells her, but then I guess realized how stupid that sounded so he revised, "Okay, well, the people playing with me on _their_ computers aren't imaginary."

"Come on man, seriously," Eliot says, and his eyes shift to Parker. I mean come on, the girl _just _got through that freak out.

"No, let him play," Parker says, and now Hardison looks confused on who to listen to.

"I thought you guys were having like a… moment, or something," Hardison says, motioning to Parker who's sprawled all over Eliot. "Thought I'd give you space. I mean you've let me and Parker have ours before."

"That's not… I wasn't gonna fuck her," Eliot says. "Besides, if I was, I'd want you here."

"I didn't say 'fuck'," Hardison says, and gives him this knowing look.

"If the words 'make love' come out of your mouth, I'm gonna smack you."

"What's wrong with that?" Parker asks, now looking at Eliot. "Don't you want to make love to me? To us?"

Deer in headlights.

"Well, I don't think we should have sex now," Eliot defends. I mean shit, she just got over whatever… hardly the fucking time, right?

"No one said now," Parker tells him, and sits up so she can look down at him. "You don't want to make love, ever?"

"Right? For real," Hardison chimes in, and both of them are looking at him like he said something _wrong._

"What? Shit, I just don't like the term, alright? Sounds all fuckin'… mushy."

"What if I want mushy? I've never had mushy," Parker says, and blinks at him. "What if I like it? I don't know, I should try. We should try."

"I just don't do mushy, alright?" Jeez.

"Bullshit," Hardison says, and puts down his laptop and comes over to them on the bed. "You got some mushy in you, I've seen it." And now he pokes him, like he's teasing him. Hell no.

"Lying sack."

"No, he's right. You were mushy with me in the bathtub."

"I yelled at you in the bathtub."

"Yeah, but it was mushy."

Lord.

"Look, _making love_ is for like… I dunno, fuckin' old married couples, alright?" Eliot says, and sits up, running his fingers through his hair. He's uncomfortable with this conversation, and he's not really sure why.

Parker peers down at him and then asks, "So when all of us are all old and married one day, living in some big house with a yard and a little yappy dog, then you'll make love to us?"

Eliot stares blankly at Parker. Married? Seriously? Did she just actually _say _that? He gets up off the bed, and puts on his shoes, not answering her question. He just can't… think. MARRIAGE?

"Where are you going?" she asks him.

"Out. Just out," Eliot tells her, just needing to get away for a minute. He felt like he couldn't breathe, smothered. As he walks away and out the door he hears Hardison tell Parker:

"Parker, you seriously shouldn't have said anything about marriage to _Eliot…"_

Yeah, probably not.

**TBC…**


	24. The Jealousy

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR  
The Jealousy**

Marriage.

_Marriage._

How is it that one word can make him run like this? And it wasn't like it was a proposal; it wasn't like Parker got down on one fuckin' knee and asked him to spend the rest of his life with him and Hardison. But it was an idea, it's out in the open, fuckin' floating around in the air all… _out there_ now. And once something's out there, you can't really put it back. The cat and the bag, the worm and the can… whatever. Damnit.

Eliot knows he's probably being unreasonable, but he just felt suffocated. It ain't like he's opposed to the idea of marriage, but the last time he even thought about it, it just crumbled underneath him and bitch slapped him across the face. So excuse him if he's a bit wary about the subject. Besides, they've only been dating for like a week! Seriously not even the time to even _begin _to think of that word, let alone let it fall from their lips.

Hell.

"You know, you seriously need to stop being so predictable."

Eliot doesn't look at Hardison as he sits down next to him at the bar. He instead chooses to stare into his glass, watching the ice cubes float lazily along, until he scowled and brought the glass to his lips.

Damn, Hardison.

"Hey…" Hardison starts, and Eliot feels a hand on his thigh. He looks down at it, then back up at who it was attached to. "She didn't mean to make you go all… wiggy."

"What the fuck is 'wiggy'?"

"You know, like wig out… freak out… have a little panic attack of your own, whatever," Hardison tells him, and Eliot refrains from rolling his eyes. Instead he just turns back to his drink. He didn't wanna talk about it.

"Where is she?" he asks, suddenly feeling like an ass. She just had a really bad day, and here they are, up in this bar without her.

Hardison nods behind him and Eliot swivels the bar chair to face where he motioned to. Parker was sitting at a booth, by herself, looking at them. When she caught Eliot's eye she gave him a little wave, a half hearted smile, like she doesn't know how he'll take it. She thinks she did something wrong. Damnit. She didn't, he just… fuck. He's an idiot. Whatever. He just doesn't like that word, that's it.

But he seriously needs to stop being such an asshole too.

He sighs and picks up his drink, sliding off the bar stool before walking over to Parker, Hardison behind him. She looks wary of him coming over, so when he gets there, after he puts down his drink and before he slides in the booth next to her, he leans down and kisses her softly.

"So you're not mad?" she asks, as he sits next to her. Hardison's waving at them to scoot down, and as they try to move, Hardison apparently misjudged how much room he had to sit, because he sat part on Eliot's leg.

"Damnit, Hardison!" Eliot growls, and shoves him a little. "Fuckin' sat on my bruises." Then he turns to Parker, an entirely different expression on his face, and tells her, "No, darlin'. Just don't… talk about that. Not now. Not yet. Not for awhile." Sure, he was still a little freaked, it doesn't magically disappear, but he needs to not take it out on them right now. Especially after Parker just went through.

"Bruises from what?" Hardison asks in his skeptical tone, annoyed with being shoved. But now he's sitting next to Eliot comfortably, and trying to get the waitresses attention.

"Oh nothing, that heroin dealer got _himself_ knocked out, and I tripped over his body and fuckin' fell into a god damn wall. What do you _think?"_ Eliot asks, grumpy and sarcastic. His job ain't easy, damn. Little respect for the sore parts would just be nice, is all.

Eliot swears he sees Hardison roll his eyes at his tone, but he ignores it. Hardison's still trying to get the one waitress in this bar's attention, but is having little luck since she seems to have her hands full at another table. "Jeez," Eliot says, commenting on his laziness since he apparently doesn't wanna get up and make the long journey that's all of thirty seconds over to the bar. He starts lightly pushing him out of the booth, "Just move, I'll go get the drinks."

"Just gimme a beer," Hardison says as he moves, letting him out. "And… thanks."

Yeah, yeah. Lazy.

"I want something with an umbrella in it," Parker tells him with a smile and a nod as Hardison slides back into the booth next to her.

"Parker, this isn't the Caribbean."

"So? Umbrella's are fun."

Right.

Eliot just turns and walks towards the bar, planning to not even bother asking about an umbrella cause he knows they don't have any. He'll just get her a margarita and she'll get over it. She likes the salt, anyway.

He rests his elbows on the bar and as he orders their drinks, and as the bartender walks away to get them, the woman sitting next to him turns to face him, with that subtle flick of her hair that Eliot knows all too well as she gives him this little smirk. "A beer and a margarita? Interesting combination."

Eliot looks at her, and instinctually he smiles at her a little as he turns to lean his back against the bar. Well, he's never seen her here before. And by the looks of her full drink, she must have just gotten here. "For my friends," he explains, though didn't motion to them to show her who they were. Oh, and he didn't seem to mention the fact that they aren't actually his friends, that they're his boyfriend and girlfriend.

Shit.

But it's like it's fuckin' wired into his DNA to flirt with women. It ain't like he's gonna do anything. And he still ain't ready to let the whole world know he's into men too. Especially not a knockout who's looking at him like she'd like to eat him alive.

"And what about you?" the woman asks with a wry smile as she plays with the straw in her drink. "You look like a whiskey man to me."

That makes Eliot smirk. "What makes you say that?"

The girl smirks, tongue in cheek. "Let's just say I have a gift." She lifts her glass to her lips, taking a sip while keeping eye contact with him. Then she gives him a smile that suggests more than she's saying, "Maybe a little later I can show you how I do it."

The bartender comes over and puts the drinks down in front of him, and Eliot slides him the money without even looking at him. "Keep the change," he tells him, eyes still on the girl.

Or, at least, that was until Parker was standing right behind him.

"One word," he hears her say from behind him, and he whips around to face her, getting hit with this shit ton of guilt that he didn't see coming because hell, he didn't _do _anything. She takes the drinks from off the counter, looks him square in the eye with this look that Eliot's surprised didn't make him burst into flame on the spot, and says that one word very slowly: "Ca-stra-tion." And then she turns and walks away, back to the table with Hardison, just like that.

Eliot is not going to admit he's scared by that. At least, not outloud. Parker's a lot of things, but she doesn't make idle threats, and frankly? He kind of likes his balls. He doesn't even say anything to the woman, who's looking at him confused, and he just hightails it back to the table.

He's not a pussy; don't look at him like that. Parker's just… a little bit scary sometimes.

Plus, okay, he really shouldn't have… participated in the flirtation. He's spoken for now. But it was just habit, he couldn't help it. And don't old habits die hard? Besides, maybe it's the marriage things fault. That word makes him do crazy shit, right? Not like he's into psychology and all that junk, but if it gives him an excuse he'll take it.

When he gets back to the booth, Hardison's looking at him with a mixture of both annoyance and amusement. "Have fun?" he mocks.

"No," Eliot says in a small voice, and sits back in the booth next to Parker. He hates the way they're looking at him. Makes him feel fuckin'… ashamed. Damnit. "Sorry," he says, cause he doesn't know what else to say.

"You were giving her your sex eyes," Parker accuses.

"What? I don't have _sex eyes_, Parker," Eliot grumbles, and picks up his drink. He so needs to get drunk.

"Yeah you do," Hardison tells him.

"I do _not_… Parker, what are you…?" Eliot starts to say, interrupting himself as Parker starts to climb on top of him in the booth. She's straddling now, and drawing too much god damn attention to them. "Parker, get off of me, we're in the middle of a fuckin' bar."

"I want you to give me your sex eyes," she tells him, all very much in his personal space. People were starting to stare.

"Parker, just get off, will you? What the hell are you doing?"

"Haven't you seen those documentaries?" Hardison asks, and he is far too amused by this situation than Eliot wants him to be. Which is at all. "She's marking her territory."

"I'm not peeing on him, Alec," Parker says, honestly thinking that's what he meant. It makes Hardison choke on his drink, which does end up making Eliot laugh, forgetting for a second that everyone's still staring.

"Sex eyes," Parker demands. "Now."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Eliot tells her, and tries to move her off of him, but she squeezes her legs into him, pressing into his damn bruises, as she stays where she is. He winces. "Parker, seriously."

"No, Eliot. I'm prettier than her. So give me sex eyes." Oh good lord. He really doesn't like jealous Parker.

Well, okay, maybe he does a little. There is something strangely hot about a jealous woman, just it'd be better if they were at his house, her house, fuck, Hardison's house. Wherever. Not here.

"Look, I'll give you sex eyes all night long if you fuckin' want, just get off of me now," Eliot tells her, trying to bargain. She doesn't bite. "Hardison…" Eliot says slowly, hoping he'll help him out here.

"Oh no, man," Hardison says as he watches them with a little smirk on his face. "This is what you get. Continue, Parker."

"I'm waiting," she tells him, looking down at him. Then she gives him the naughtiest little smirk he's ever seen on her and she shifts her weight, grinding her pussy against his dick through their pants.

He's in hell.

"Fuckin'… what do you want from me?" Eliot growls out. He doesn't have sex eyes, does he? He doesn't know how they look, how the hell to just _turn them on._ But that doesn't stop him from trying, just needing to finish this before Parker makes this whole middle-of-public thing gets any more intimate. Or in other words: worse. In a good way. Bad in a great way. Whatever. Point? He tried to make sex eyes… and failed.

"Those weren't your sex eyes, those were you're I'm-trying-to-get-out-of-trouble eyes," Parker chides him.

"Have you named all of my eyes? Looks, whatever?" Eliot asks, incredulous. "Seriously?" That seemed a little insane. Then again, who was he talking to?

"Not all of them, there's this weird one you do when you get squinty. It's halfway between your I'm-confused-at-Hardison's-computer-stuff eyes and your I-need-my-glasses-but-I'm-being-stubborn-and-wanna-pretend-I-have-20/20-vision eyes."

She's insane.

Hardison snorts, and Eliot turns his head to glare at him. Asshole.

"Look, I'm fuckin' sorry, Parker, okay? I wouldn't fuck her, if that's what your worried about. Like I can handle a third," Eliot says, but she just looks at him with squinty eyes of her own. He turns to Hardison for help. "Tell her, man."

"Hey, I ain't in the middle of this."

"How do you figure? You're my fuckin' boyfriend, and you're saying you don't give a shit if I did or not?" Eliot asks. What the hell was that?

"I can't stop you from cheating, that's your decision," Hardison tells him with a shrug.

"Wow, way to have faith." Eliot says, actually kind of mad now. His own fucking boyfriend obviously didn't think much of him either. "No wonder you never had any girlfriends, you just let them fuck off and do whatever, never fighting for 'em."

Hardison raises his eyebrows at him, and Eliot immediately regrets saying that. "Fine. You want me to start metaphorically pissing all over you, Eliot? FINE."

Before Eliot can tell him no, Hardison's lips are on his, his already tongue down his throat. Eliot's first instinct is to push him off, cause they're in the middle of his favorite damn bar and everyone was already staring cause of the scene Parker started, but he knew he couldn't. Pushing him off would only cause more drama at home, and hell, there's other bars in this fucking city. He just needed to make shit cool with them.

Damn, he just got outted. It's an awkward feeling. More awkward than the one with Sophie and Nate, but that might be because he didn't really have time to stop and think about how it felt cause he was trying to deal with Parker not killing anyone.

When him and Hardison break, he barely has time to even take a breath before Parker's lips are on his. He just tries to shut out everyone around him and just enjoy it for what it's worth, but it was hard. He really doesn't wanna see the looks on their faces.

Then Parker's off of him, sliding off of his lap and back into the seat. "We're going home now," she tells both of them, like she controls the world and what they do.

Sad thing? She kind of does. When the hell did that happen?

"Who's home?" Eliot asks, cause hell, they each have their own.

"Yours, duh," she tells him, like he should have known that. "We're still staying over there for another week."

As they all slide out of the booth and start to walk towards the door, Eliot starts, but doesn't finish, "But wasn't that for Sophie's…?" cause hell, it's over now, ain't it?

"Just shut up," she tells him, still kind of mad about the earlier flirtation incident. "You're lucky I don't spank you right now."

Eliot's eyes widen at that. Okay, last thing he thought would come out of her mouth. Worst thing about it is that she's completely serious, and not even in a sexy naughty way. Kinda took the fun out of that sentence.

"I'd pay to see that," Hardison says with a smirk as they walk out the door, Eliot making sure not even to _look _at the woman he was talking to at the bar before.

Parker turns and looks at him. "Really? How much?"

Oh no.

**TBC…**


	25. The Domination

**A/N: **You all are gonna _hate_ me for how this chapter ends, but I have a word limit on chapters. Sorry! Haha. I promise I'll continue soon.

**CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE  
The Domination**

"Parker, I am not afraid to drop kick you."

"You wouldn't hit a girl," Parker tells him, this naughty little smirk on her face as she backs Eliot into a corner in his living room. Then her face turns into one of mock innocence and she asks, "Would you?"

"If she hits me first, yes," Eliot tells her, holding up his hands in defense. He is _not _just gonna lay down and take this… _abuse._

"I got paid, I have to do the job," Parker tells him, having way too much fun with this situation. Hardison too, as a matter of fact. He's sitting on the couch, legs propped up on his coffee table (which he'll kick him for later, feet do not belong on the furniture), eating fucking popcorn. POPCORN! Like this is some kind of amusing _movie._

"How much did he _pay_ you?!"

Parker shrugs, still advancing on him, "Two hundred bucks."

Two hundred…?!

"What the fuck is two hundred dollars to _you?!"_ Eliot asks, still backing up until his back hits the far wall. Shit. Trapped. He really doesn't wanna have to fend Parker off physically, what if he hurts her?

"That's all he had on him," Parker explains, then smirks. "Besides, I want to do it now. It'll be fun."

"I will drop kick you, I ain't kidding."

"Pfft, right," she says skeptically. "Besides," she says, and her voice got about two octaves lower and she looks at him with this look like she could fuck him where he stands. That makes Eliot let down his defenses a little as she continues to advance on him. "I thought you'd like me all…" she's closer now, much too close, before she practically whispers the last word: "Dominant."

Mental images flashed through Eliot's head, successfully distracting him. That's apparently all Parker needed, because she lunged at him then, and managed to get one of his arms, spin him around until his face pressed against the coolness of the wall, and she pins his arm behind his back. That little…

_SPANK._

"PARKER!" Eliot yells, and gets the momentum to spin himself back around, out of her grasp. She shrieks playfully and takes off running as she cackles. DAMN HER! His ass was hurting now. Man, could that girl fucking _hit._

He's so gonna kill her.

Hardison's on the couch, practically rolling with laughter, tears coming out of his eyes as he yells, "Run, Parker, RUN!"

Eliot growls at him but takes off running after her. They do a couple laps around the house, Parker vaulting his damn furniture, which just made Hardison cheer her on more. But Eliot's getting annoyed at Hardison cheering_ her_ on, so he stops running after Parker. "You think it's funny? Huh?"

Hardison stops laughing, and get's a big 'uh oh' look just moments before Eliot launches himself at him. Hardison tries to fend him off, but to no avail. Within moments he's face down on the couch, successfully pinned.

"No, Eliot, don't! I'm sorry!" Hardison cries out, and Eliot's smirking now. Oh, see, now _this_ could be fun.

Parker realizes she's not being chased anymore, and comes to back to witness the christening of Hardison's ass. "Spank him, Eliot!" she encourages, excited by the prospect.

He turns to her, "I ain't done with you yet, missy. Don't be so keen for me to finish with him," he warns, but it's playful. Hell, whether he'd like to admit it or not, this was kinda fun. Just fucking around with the two of them.

"Eliot, I'm sorry! I swear, I'll root for you, just please don't—WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"Parker, come help me with his pants," Eliot says with a sly smile as he starts to tug them down with one hand while the other hand holds a squirming Hardison in place. Parker gleefully comes over to help, sliding her hand under Hardison's body to undo his button and zipper.

"No, no, Eliot I'm sorry! Don't hit my bare skin! Come on, man! Please!" Hardison begs, but it just makes Eliot want to do it more. It ain't like he's gonna actually _hurt_ him. Not much, anyway.

But Parker has successfully undone his zipper, apparently fondling something in the process of pulling down Hardison's pants, because the man makes some kind of strangled sound of approval. As his bare ass comes into view, Eliot raises his hand up, just dangling it there, taunting him.

"Eliot, don't!" Hardison tries one last time, but Eliot just smirks as his hand connects with his flesh.

"God!" Hardison cries, his ass arching. Eliot can see his fingers dig into the couch, and it makes him raise an eyebrow. Well, that went over a lot different than what he was expecting. It intrigued him.

"Do it again!" Parker says excitedly, watching Hardison's reaction.

This time, there is no protest from Hardison before Eliot's hand connects again, making Hardison close his eyes and let out a very audible moan. Eliot smirks, and Parker is clearly enjoying this little game much more than when it started.

"You're a kinky fucker, aren't you Hardison?" Eliot taunts, but Hardison just raises his ass towards him in eager response. Guess that meant yes.

Parker pushes Eliot's hand out of the way, taking over the duty of holding Hardison's hands behind his back. "Raise your ass up higher," she demands, and Hardison does so. "HIGHER," she demands again, and Hardison tucks his knees under him and pushes his ass up to as high as it can go, with his face still pressed against the couch. She smirks and looks beneath him. "Look what you did, Eliot," she says in a little teasing voice as she indicates Hardison's rapidly hardening dick. "Now do it again," she orders, looking him square in the eyes.

Yes, Ma'am. Shit. Yeah, this game is getting a lot better.

The smacking sound seemed to echo through the living room, and Hardison lurches forward, gasping as he pleads, "Fuck, yes, Eliot!" His hand connects with his flesh again, and Hardison moans loudly, almost collapsing.

"GET UP," Parker orders loudly, and in this voice that's getting Eliot's dick hard. The look in her eye was damn near close to crazy, but so damn sexy and controlling that it really didn't matter. As Hardison struggles to get back on his knees, she looks at Eliot in this way that makes him feel like he did something wrong and she asks, "Why do you still have your pants on?" It was one of those questions that didn't require an answer, only action.

But Eliot counters anyway, still reluctant to give up_ all_ control, "Why do you?"

"Because I'm holding the toy," she tells him seriously, indicating Hardison. Hardison bites his lower lip; obviously enjoying the fact Parker just called him a toy.

Eliot smirks. "Doubt he's goin' anywhere, darlin'."

Parker seems to consider this for a moment, then apparently decides on a new plan of action, far too into this dominatrix thing now. She lets Hardison go and says, "You, get up. Follow me." Eliot just watches in amusement as Parker walks off, Hardison following her like a damn puppy. The submissive little bastard. Damn, this was fucking… _hot._

As he enters his bedroom, he see's Hardison' stripping off all of his clothes at Parker's command. "Lay face down on the bed," she tells him, and Hardison makes his way over to the bed while Parker starts searching through Eliot's closet.

"What the hell are you looking for?" Eliot asks, but Parker doesn't that question. Instead she just tells him:

"Get naked. Now."

Well, fine then. But only because he's not opposed to the idea. As he starts to slide off his jeans, Parker emerges from the closet with two of his belts. Oh lord. What is she gonna…?

Eliot continues to take off his clothes, pulling his shirt up over his head while Parker gets on the bed with Hardison. She takes one of his wrists and wraps part of the belt around it, before wrapping it around the bedposts.

Ohh… nice. Yeah, this could work out just fine.

Eliot slides off his boxers, and after Parker ties Hardison face down on his bed, she orders him, "Turn your head this way," indicating where Eliot was, and where Parker was going to. Eliot's not exactly sure what the hell is on her mind, but he wasn't in a state to argue, because just then Parker started pulling off her clothes as she looks around the room, as if deciding a proper spot for whatever the hell she wants to do.

She's naked in a matter of moments, and seems to have decided on whatever it was that she was debating, because she saunters up to his bureau that's right next to the side of the bed Hardison was told to look at and…_ fucking knocks everything off of it. _Things crash and clutter to the ground.

"Parker! What the fuck are you—?!" Eliot starts to yell, cause hell, way to fucking break a _lamp,_ when she lifts one leg up on it and bends over, giving both boys a perfect view of fucking… _everything._

What was he just yelling about?

He just staring at her, and hell, so is Hardison. Neither of them know exactly what this is, but maybe only because they're minds went blank just from the sight of it. Parker sighs patiently and explains, "Eliot… you can do… _whatever _you want to me," she says in this sexy voice that makes his dick say hello to his stomach. "And Alec… you have to watch," she finishes in this voice that indicates immense teasing. And hell, from Hardison's position, it should. He can't do jack shit but watch.

Okay, he's on board now.

"That's not fair," Hardison practically whines, and tries to resist against his bindings, but he's locked in place as Eliot comes over to _his_ new toy. This rough dominating stuff was apparently getting to him, because the first thing he did was wrap her hair in his hand, making a fist… and pulled. Parker gasps as she's wrenched back, her ass hitting him. She's damp with her own desire, panting from the anticipation.

"Please," she begs him softly, the dominatrix quickly becoming the submissive, and it brings out the animal in Eliot. He pulls her hair back a little further, bringing his lips to her ear. She's already close to trembling from the force of his own domination, and he has to control himself from taking her right then.

"Look at Hardison the entire time," he tells her gruffly, and she whimpers with a little nod. As he holds her in place he opens up one of the top drawers, getting out a condom.

"I told you I don't need those," Parker gasps out, but Eliot pulls her hair a little more and she shuts up.

"Why don't you need those?" Hardison asks from his position on the bed. Damnit. Don't ruin the mood, shit. She really does need to tell him, just not _now._

"Not the time, Parker," Eliot tells her, and unwraps the package. "Besides, I don't know shit for sure, and I ain't having any little accidents." As he slips it over his shaft, he starts kissing her neck, just trying to divert the conversation. Or hell, not have any conversation, just fucking sex. Parker bites her lower lip and closes her eyes, but Eliot yanks on her hair again. "I told you to look at him."

"Okay," she gasps out, and opens her eyes, looking at Hardison, who's still desperately trying to get out of his own bindings. But Parker seems to know her shit, because he can't even get them loose. Eliot's free hand wanders between her legs, and when he connects with her heat, the wetness seems to already consume him. Parker pushes her hips into his hand, straining for just a bit more contact. But he holds back, because hell, this time _he's _in control. "Eliot," she pleads softly.

Eliot's soaked fingers slide down over her clit, making her squirm, and then back up just a bit farther, over the curve of her ass. Parker whimpers as he passes her hole, and he smirks. "You like that?" he taunts, and passes his fingers lightly back over again, making her push her hips even further back.

"Yes," she pleads desperately, and hell, Eliot is not, no way in _hell,_ gonna pass up an opportunity like that, so he gently slides a finger in. Parker moans, her fingers gripping the bureau. She was so fucking _tight._

"Oh my god, are you fingering her… her… ?" Hardison practically pants out, even though he already knew the answer to the question he couldn't even finish. He tugs on his bindings erratically. "Let me off of this bed!"

Eliot smirks and looks at him, "You need to have patience. Just fuckin' watch."

"Eliot please!" Parker begs, "More!"

Eliot's pretty damn sure there ain't a way to fit another finger in there. She was like a god damn virgin, only he's sure she's must have done this before… right? "I ain't gonna hurt you," he tells her, but that just makes her growl at him.

"Fucking hurt me!"

That makes Eliot's eyes widen. While on one hand, that's probably a request most men dream of, even though they won't ever admit it, but on the other… he ain't quite sure if it's right to hurt Parker, even if she wants it. Makes him feel like there's something wrong with her… sexually, or something. But Parker's yelling at him to do it again, so hell, he tries.

It's tight, so damn tight that he can barely fit his index finger in there with his middle, but after some work, it fits. Parker lets out a sound that's low and primal, and she slams her hips back into him. "God… fuck that feels so good," she moans, slamming her hand down to have it connect with the mahogany wood. Well, hell, if it feels good…

Eliot starts to build up a steady rhythm, and he lets go of the hold he has on her hair to slide that hand down between her legs to start teasing her clit lightly. Parker looks at Hardison as she pants, biting her lower lip as she bends further over the bureau. "Fuck… Alec… god, you should feel this…" she gasps out, and Hardison's now given up on trying to get out of the bindings, and just trying to work on getting some friction against his dick, which still isn't working out too well.

"Damnit!" Hardison yells, frustrated and desperate. "Just fuck her Eliot and then get over here and _fuck me!"_

The prospect of fucking Hardison should have scared him. But it didn't. Maybe because of the situation, maybe because of how sexy he sounded when he demanded it, or maybe because his fingers were already buried in Parker's ass that anything anal just seemed like a good idea. But whatever it was… it didn't scare him.

"I'm gonna fuck you into next goddamn year," Eliot promises gruffly, "But just shut up and enjoy your show." Then he presses on Parker's clit hard and she gasps, her eyes closing as she submits to the feeling. "Open your eyes!" he demands again. "Look at him!"

But his fingers are speeding up the pace on both ends of her body, and she's starting to shudder. "I… I can't!" she cries out, her eyes still tightly shut as she thrusts her hips back with such force it almost knocks him backwards.

"Do it or I'll stop!"

"I…I… _FUCK!"_ she screams, maybe in pleasure and maybe in defeat as she tries to open her eyes to look at Hardison, who's breathless as he watches them. "God, don't stop, Eliot! DON'T STOP!" she pleads desperately, trying with everything she had to keep her eyes trained on Hardison as she draws closer to the peak.

"MAKE HER CUM, ELIOT!" Hardison demands, trying so hard to control his own arousal so he can wait like a good boy for his turn. He's desperate for them to finish, needing release himself. But so does Eliot, his dick is fucking throbbing, and he knows he needs to finish her so he can get some himself.

Fingers pumping, his other digits slip through her wet folds to apply more pressure on her clit. And Parker gasps hard, a shudder running down the base of her spine before she tightens around him, her eyes flying shut as she stills for a moment. A scream; an ear shattering decibel as a gush of fluid flows from her body, soaking his hand as she cries out obscenities and his name. Then her knees give way out from under her, and Eliot had to withdraw his hands quickly to be able to catch her before she hits the ground.

"Oh… my_… god…"_ she gasps out, head spinning from her rush. He places her gently on the ground, and she just lies there, staring up at the ceiling, completely spent.

"Eliot!" Hardison cries desperately from his position on the bed, and Eliot looks over at him. Parker seems to be in her own little world, so he lets her lie there as she comes down before he gets up and crawls on the bed.

"On your knees," he demands, and Hardison's quick to obey, scrambling up. Eliot looks down at him, his cheeks spread wide, his hole puckering, desperate, _needing _it, and Eliot wants nothing more than to just violate him in all the right ways.

But he pauses; is he really ready to do this? This will make him like… _officially_ gay, won't it?

"Fuck him," Parker pleads desperately from on the floor. Then she smirks in her little sex induced haze as she looks at Eliot's unused dick, "Don't waste the condom."

Don't waste the condom. _Right…_

**TBC…**


	26. The Virginity

**CHAPTER TWENTY SIX  
The Virginity**

Eliot feels finger tips on his back, and looks behind him to see Parker peering over his shoulder. Her touch was almost graceful, nothing near the dangerously insatiable desire that she had prior to her orgasm. She smiles a little, something that seems so innocent except for the wicked gleam dancing behind her eyes. Her fingers are tickling his skin as she rests her head on his shoulder, looking at Hardison open and exposed for both of them. "Pretty," she muses.

Well, yes. Clearly.

"Great, my ass is fucking pretty, but can you guys _do _something with it?" Hardison interrupts, his desperation straining his voice. He tugs again on his bindings as he tries to turn his head, but can't get it far enough to see the two of them grinning at his burning need.

"Mmm…" Parker slightly hums, and her hand reaches out to use her fingers to now stroke the curve of Hardison's ass. The man strains back into her touch, and even the slightest feeling makes him have goosebumps. Eliot just watches her, intrigued by her softer touch. But then she's running her finger up his crack, posed at his opening and—

Yeah, okay, the softness was clearly a ruse.

Eliot slaps her hand away, and Parker takes it back, looking disgruntled. "Lubes in the top drawer," he tells her, and she rolls her eyes. She clearly wanted to go a different route with this.

"Yeah, yeah," she says, and climbs off the bed to go get it, still looking like he stole her Christmas.

"Hey girl, you might be into pain and whatever fuckin' else, but the rest of us…"

"I could've spit on it first," Parker defends, opening his bureau and ruffling through it. Then she pauses and looks at him, "And I don't believe that you don't like pain."

"I get enough pain on the job, thanks."

"Will you two just _shut up?"_ Hardison pleads, and tugs on his bindings again. "Man in need of an orgasm here. I really couldn't give a crap at this point _how_ I get it!"

Parker's smile lights up her whole face, but Eliot is firm. "Lube, Parker." Parker rolls her eyes again and picks it up before tossing it to him. Eliot catches it with one hand.

"You're no fun," she tells him with a pout as she comes back over to the bed, crawling her way over to him.

"Well how would you like it if I stuck my fingers in your ass without lubing them first?" Eliot counters as he snaps open the bottle.

"You didn't use lube."

"What do you call your damn pussy juices?"

Parker brushes it off with a wave of her hand and an airy voice, "Technicalities. I could take it without it."

Eliot doubts that.

"I am going to kill you both in your sleep, I swear to you," Hardison curses, fed up with their idle conversation.

Eliot slaps his ass, annoyed at being interrupted. Hardison groans and lurches forward. "What did we say about patience?" he asks, though it's completely rhetorical. He turns the bottle over and squeezes some out, watching it pour down to pool in his crevice. Hardison moans at the feeling, and finally stops complaining. "I could fuck you while having an entire conversation with Parker, so don't bitch. I know how to multi-task."

Parker scoffs, "No you couldn't."

Eliot cocks and eyebrow, "You wanna bet? My mouth ain't attached to my dick."

"No, that's just your brai—GOD!," Hardison starts to mumble, but Eliot firmly grabs one of his cheeks and spreads him roughly, making him interrupt himself.

"I wasn't talking to you," Eliot tells him, and slides his finger up his crack, covering it with the lube before quickly, and without any warning, slips it inside Hardison. Hardison gasps and closes his eyes, thrusting his ass back towards him.

Good, now that that's settled…

"Call him Daddy!" Parker squeals excitedly, apparently forgetting about their almost wager at the sight of Eliot's finger buried inside Hardison.

"I am not gonna—oh, god, Eliot!" Hardison interrupts himself with another moan as Eliot starts to move his finger inside of him.

Eliot smirks, "No, she's right. Call me Daddy." Yeah, okay, maybe it's a bit raunchy, but fuckin' hell, right? He can't deny that it's hot. Parker bites her bottom lip in excitement.

"I am _not…"_ Hardison starts again, but Eliot slowly works a second finger into him, and Hardison moans hard and rocks against his fingers, successfully consuming him. "Fuck, fine, just… ugghhhff…"

"What was that? I didn't hear it," Eliot taunts, and uses his other hand to spread his cheeks wider to get more room to try to work his other finger in. It was hard, Hardison was tight as all holy hell, but if he didn't do this first then there's no way his dick was ever gonna fit.

"More, Daddy, _please…"_ Hardison pants, giving in. Eliot smirks. See? That… that was sexy. All he wanted.

It takes Eliot a minute to work a third in, but with Parker picking up the bottle of lube and squeezing more on to the designated area, it eventually slipped inside. Hardison moans again, his fingers digging into the bedsheets. "Shit," he pants out, his voice strained.

"That hurt?" Eliot asks cautiously.

"A little but… fuck, trust me, it doesn't matter…" Hardison gasps as Eliot slowly caresses him inside, gently working him up to open wider. Hardison closes his eyes, tugging against his bindings again as he thrusts his hips back into him.

Eliot was gonna say something; at least, he could've sworn he was. But all thoughts flew out the window once he felt Parker's tongue lightly tease his nuts. "Fuck, Parker…" Eliot groans. He noticed her going down there, but thought she was just trying to watch this at a different angle. He wasn't expecting that.

"Mmm… hold on," she says, before she climbs off the bed again. Eliot sighs in annoyance; he wasn't done with her being down there. But when she comes back she has a condom in her hand, putting it down next to them.

"I already have a fuckin'…" Eliot starts to say, but Parker takes the one that's on his dick off and throws it to the floor.

"They get in my way," she explains, then motions to the wrapped condom she just threw on the bed. "You can put that one on when you're ready to… you know." She makes this little swirly finger motion then points to Hardison's ass.

Oh, right.

Once again, there was words he was going to say, but he didn't get the chance. Remember when Parker boasted about being the fuckin' queen of blowjobs? That title was well deserved. He'd been with Parker before, sure, but she never actually gave him head. And now? Shit, he might just have to keep her down there from now on. That girl fuckin' worked _magic_ with her tongue.

Eliot's fingernails are digging into Hardison's ass as Parker starts to work him off, making the man underneath him gasp. It was hard to concentrate on what the hell he was supposed to be doing in the first place, but he managed to realize that he _did_ have an actual point to this whole fingering deal, besides just making Hardison emit sounds of ecstasy. He was having trouble with his fourth finger, though whether that was because it was too tight or because Parker was distracting the_ hell_ out of him, he wasn't sure.

Whatever it was, he didn't wanna sit around and figure it out. His cock was throbbing, and Parker was getting him dangerously close to the edge. It takes all his strength to will himself to gently push her off of him, and as she finally releases him, he lets out a breath. "You're gonna… fuckin'… just, shit, Parker…"

"You don't want me to make you cum before you get to fuck Alec," Parker states, translating his gasping mess. Right, yes. That.

"You better fucking not," Hardison tells her breathlessly, and Eliot still can't speak very well. He's trying to internally calm himself down, so he just waves his hand to the condom, motioning for Parker to get it. He withdraws his fingers from Hardison, hoping to shit that this is gonna work, cause he damn well can't take this any longer.

Parker holds it out to him, but Eliot just holds up his sticky lubed up fingers and cocks and eyebrow at her. "Right," she says, understanding he's not going to be able to open it. She smirks as she unwraps it, and slips it over his dick for him slowly. Too slowly. Damn her. She's fondling things again.

"Parker," Eliot gasps out, just needing her to step away for a minute. The girl was like a fucking succubus. Beautiful, but deadly. "Go sit at the head of the bed and spread yourself for Hardison, yeah? Give him something to look at."

"Okay," she says with a grin, and proceeds to crawl over to the head of the bed.

"Eliotttt…" Hardison whines, impatient. He's straining his ass back to touch him, any part of him, but all he's met with his air.

"We gotta work on your damn patience," Eliot tells him gruffly as he gets the lube bottle again. After preparations are hastily made, and Eliot uses his lube covered hands to slide up and down his shaft, he positions himself behind him. He takes a deep breath, and pauses to watch Parker situate herself in front of Hardison. He goes into taste her, but she keeps out of his reach.

"Just look, don't touch," she teases, and Eliot didn't need to see his face to know that he glared at her.

"You ready?" Eliot asks, wondering if he's gonna have any second thoughts.

"Eliot, if you don't fuck me now, I am going to go all Hulk on you, tear off these god damn bindings, and fuck you myself," Hardison tells him with a bit of a growl.

Well, guess that means yes then.

Eliot uses his hands to spread him again, trying to make this as easy for him as possible, and starts to slowly ease the head in. Hardison gasps, and winces a little. "Shit," he pants out, so Eliot stops for a minute to let him get acclimated to it. It was hard too, not to just say fuck everything and barrel into him, but he knows if he was in his position he'd probably kill someone if that happened. He can only imagine it's like a woman's virginity, and he's gotten his damn_ hair_ torn out during those circumstances.

Oh damn, he was taking Hardison's virginity, wasn't he? His gay virginity anyway. He knows normal people usually feel bad about all that shit, but Eliot just finds it hotter. Besides, he's taking his too, isn't he? So it's square.

After a minute, Hardison tells him, "More," and tightens his muscles, anticipating for it to hurt.

"Dude, you gotta relax," Eliot tells him, already feeling Hardison clench around him. Ain't no way he's gonna go in further when he's like that.

"Alec, look at me," Parker says softly, and Hardison looks at her. She runs her hand down between her legs, getting her fingers wet before bringing them up to his lips and tracing her juices on him. Eliot can feel Hardison relax as Parker distracts him, and he slides in a little further. He's more than halfway in when Hardison gasps in pain.

"Fuck, Eliot!"

Eliot stops, looking guilty. But Parker's on top of it, trying to distract him more. She pushes her hips closer to him, spreads herself with her fingers and tells Hardison in this low sexy voice, "I want you to taste every inch of me… Please, Alec… I need it…"

Hardison's distracted again, and Eliot can feel him loosen up. But Eliot still pauses for a moment, letting him work on Parker before he tries to slide in any further. He watches them, Parker biting her lower lip and panting softly as Hardison's tongue works its way over her clit. Eliot grabs the lube, deciding more can never hurt, and after he's covered he starts to slide all the way in. He does it more slowly this time, barely feeling like he's moving at all, until finally he feels his hips touching him.

God, Hardison felt fucking amazing around him.

Hardison's moan comes out muffled between Parker's legs, and Parker looks at Eliot and gives him a little grin. Now they were in business. Eliot still starts out slowly, moving in and out of him at a taunting pace. There were the occasional winces from Hardison, but after awhile they started to disappear, followed closely by him pushing his hips back into him.

"Fuck, Eliot…" Hardison groans out, too into it now to be able to pleasure Parker properly. "_Harder,"_ he begs softly, resting his cheek against the sheets. Eliot doesn't wanna hurt him, but by now he figures that Hardison's gotten pretty used to it. Besides, he'll be vocal about it if it does.

Eliot grasps his hips firmly and pulls his ass back into him, slamming their hips together. Hardison cries out, but it doesn't sound like one of pain, so Eliot keeps on. He's sweating, grunting, fucking just _needing _to get off now, no matter what the hell it takes. His orgasm has been prolonged too damn long.

Parker's watching them, taking matters into her own hands. "God, yes!" she encourages as he digits work her clit in a way only masturbation can provide. "Fuck him, Eliot! Make him your bitch!"

Oh, Parker and her filthy little mouth.

Not that he's opposed to making Hardison his bitch, though. He tries to get up on his hands again, but Eliot pushes him back down, lifting his ass higher, manhandling the kid as he slams deeper into him. He groans as he feels Hardison squeeze around him, clearly liking being pushed around. "Deeper!" he screams at him, and Eliot obliges.

The only sounds that can be heard are moans, pants, grunts, fuckin' skin slapping together as all three of them draw close to the edge. Eliot's fingers are digging into Hardison's dark skin and his are digging into the bed before Eliot feels Hardison clench so damn hard around him that it's just… fuckin' over. He cums quickly, feeling himself fill up the condom as Hardison screams something that may have been his name, or maybe be a new curse word, as he releases all over the bed beneath him.

As the two boys fall into each other, Parker releases, her fingers working so furiously against her clit that Eliot could have sworn she must be hurting herself. Poor Hardison, being directing between her legs, gets a full spray of cum in his hair as Parker squirts probably the third, no definitely, the second most Eliot has ever seen a woman squirt in his life. He tries to laugh at Hardison's predicament, but all that comes out is him gasping for air as he revels in his own post orgasm.

Damn.

It takes a minute before everyone says anything, but when words are spoken, its Hardison.

"Fuck… I think I need a shower. Can someone please untie me?"

**TBC…**


	27. The Thunder Thighs of Doom

**CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN  
The Thunder Thighs of Doom**

"No."

"Parker…"

"NO."

Eliot sighs heavily and looks over at Hardison, who just shrugs helplessly at him before looking back down at his computer. Great, a lot of help he was. He looks at the girl, who is lying on his bed playing with her own fingers, humming something that makes her sound intensely insane mixed with the action. She's just trying to look distracted and creepy so maybe he would let this go; but he isn't.

"Parker, you do realize eventually we are going to have a job and you're going to have to work with her, right?"

Parker just continues to hum, which now sounds strangely like the itsy bitsy spider. Eliot rolls his eyes and comes over to her, taking her hands in his, stilling her. She looks up at him and narrows her eyes. "Don't blatantly ignore me," Eliot tells her.

She looks up at him, blinks once, then gets a mischievous grin on her face before she seductively licks her bottom lip. She looks him up and down once as she sits up. "I want to suck your dick," she tells him in this low, sexy voice.

"Don't change the subject," Eliot says, not impressed by her distraction. Parker looks disgruntled, lying back on the bed with a huff and taking her hands away from him.

Then she seems to get another idea. She grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. Eliot just stares at her disbelievingly. "Parker, seriously. Trying to distract me with sex isn't going to work right now. Hardison, tell her."

"Yeah," Hardison says, though he doesn't even seem like he's paying attention to the actual conversation. "Sex is bad, or something." Eliot rolls his eyes.

Parker is now trying to unbutton her jeans, but Eliot grabs her hands and pins them to her sides. "So help me god, I will tie you up in a second."

"I might like that."

"Parker, we need to talk about Sophie," Eliot says, frustrated now.

"I don't want to," Parker says, and tries to struggle from underneath him, but doesn't seem to be putting a whole lot of effort into it. She sighs though, very dramatically.

"Tough. You need to talk to her and get this whole thing straightened out," Eliot says. "You have to let her apologize to you. Make shit right. We can't work like this, and do you wanna get your ass thrown in jail? I doubt it."

Parker just stares at him like he's being stupid. "I don't_ get_ caught."

"You're missing the point."

"Eliot, I don't _want _to!" Parker exclaims, and sounds eerily like a spoiled five year old.

"Parker, you are twenty fuckin' seven years old. Stop acting like such a brat. Shit happens, okay? People fuck up, but you can't just sit here and expect it to go away on its own."

"Fuck you," she says, and this time does put an effort into getting loose because she does, moving away from him. She gets on the other side of the bed, and they just glare at each other.

"Hardison, can I get some fuckin' help here? Seriously."

Hardison closes his laptop in a huff, annoyed with being interrupted. "What the hell do you want me to say, man? What Sophie did was really low. I ain't gonna sit here and advocate forgiveness."

"Fine. You know what? Just _fine," _Eliot says through his teeth. "Ya'll can deal with Nate when he feels the need to scream and lecture at everyone cause we all can't get along. That's all on you."

Eliot storms out of the bedroom, just sick and tired of all the juvenile crap. Yeah, what Sophie did was fucked up. Yeah, it's inexcusable. But in the end, they're a team, and they need to work through all of this mess to be able to function like one. He is _not_ gonna end up in jail cause Sophie and Parker are too busy sniping at each other to realize their cover's been blown or something.

He grabs himself a beer from the fridge, popping it open and taking a swig as he leans against the kitchen counter. This was stupid.

Eliot sees a shadow hovering behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and he cocks an eyebrow. "Hardison, I don't bite."

"I _know _that's a lie," Hardison says, finally coming out from around the corner. Eliot smirks before bringing the beer up to his lips again.

"Well, I won't bite you now. Not unless you piss me off... or really turn me on."

Hardison has a hint of a smirk on his face from the last comment, but then sighs a little and comes over to stand next to him, leaning against the counter. He turns his head to look at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's just… upset, man. The woman made her have a panic attack. She violated all of our privacy."

"I know that. Don't you think I know that?"

"Well it seems like you don't care," Hardison says softly. "You know how she is…"

"I _do _care. Trust me, I'm still pissed off with Sophie to holy hell and back again cause of that shit. But personal feelings can't get in the way of work. That's how we can get ourselves fuckin' killed."

"I know that, _she _knows that. But you're going at her all wrong. You need to be more… delicate," Hardison tells him. Eliot doesn't say anything for a moment and just takes another swig of beer.

"…Parker ain't the type to wanna be coddled," he says finally.

"I ain't saying coddle her," Hardison tells him. "But maybe if you stopped getting frustrated with her, calling her a _brat_, you might actually get somewhere. All I'm sayin'."

Okay, fine. The brat comment might have been a little uncalled for. But Eliot just ain't into all the drama. The sooner it goes away, the sooner he's got a clear head and all the stress will hopefully melt away. He wants everything to be good between the three of them, and drama hanging over their head ain't gonna make it any better.

Eliot doesn't say anything, but puts down his beer and walks out of the kitchen to the bedroom. Parker was lying on her stomach, head rested on her arms as she kicked her feet lightly in the air. She was just staring at the wall. Eliot takes a breath and crawls on the bed next to her. She doesn't acknowledge him so he brushes the hair out of her face as he lies next to her. Her eyes finally find their way to his.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Parker says softly. Eliot leans in and kisses her on the forehead and her eyes close for a moment.

"Sorry. About… being a bastard," he tells her. She just shrugs lightly.

"You're always kind of a bastard," she tells him. He narrows his eyes, but it just makes her smile a little. "You're grumpy and mean, but that's part of your sexy."

"You're kind of weird for finding that sexy," Eliot tells her. Women are supposed to enjoy his charm (which he _does_ have charm, damnit) more than his grumpiness. But then again, who was he talking to? Right.

Parker just shrugs and rolls over to lie on her back. She looks at the ceiling for a long time, and Eliot doesn't say anything. He already knows that she knows why he's here. "Sophie was mean," she says finally, softly.

"I know."

"She tried to ruin everything. She was trying to suck all the happiness out through some kind of giant straw. She—"

"She's overprotective of you, you know."

That makes Parker stop. She takes a deep breath and turns her head to look at him. "I'm not a child."

"No one said you were."

"Yeah but—"

"Parker," Eliot says seriously, looking at her. "Remember when we all split up? We all didn't talk for six months. All of except who?"

Parker rolls her eyes a little, annoyed, and mumbles, "Me and Sophie…"

"Exactly. She cares about you. She fucked up really damn bad, but that's cause her judgment obviously ain't the best. She doesn't want you to get hurt."

"But you guys aren't gonna hurt me," Parker tells him. Then she looks unsure for a moment. "…Right?"

"We're damn sure gonna try not to, darlin'. But Sophie didn't know that. Sophie just saw me involved, she thought I was some fuckin' kind of man whore, and didn't want me to just fuck you and toss you aside."

"Then shouldn't you be mad at her?" she asks him. She's been inching closer this entire time, until finally she let her head rest on Eliot's chest. He strokes her hair.

"I am. But I also get why she did it. More than that, I don't want it to fuck with the team. I mean, this is…" Eliot starts, but struggles with the words. "This is the closest fuckin' thing we all got to…"

"Family," Hardison says, and Eliot and Parker look up to see him standing in the doorway.

"Yeah," Eliot says quietly. Hardison gives him a small smile and climbs on the bed next to Eliot, snuggling to his other side. Man, this was kinda fuckin' sappy. But it was nice regardless, having both of them all cuddled into him.

There's silence for awhile before Parker speaks, "Sophie's a bad mother."

"Jesus, Parker. Don't call Sophie our mother, that's like fifteen fuckin' layers of creepy," Eliot tells her, making a face.

"She ain't bad," Hardison says softly. Eliot and Parker look at him. "She's just selfish." There's a pause, "But yeah I agree with Eliot. If Sophie's the mom, than that means Nate's the dad – which is just… yeah no – and then us? Hi. Incest. So can we just not?"

Parker snots a little as she giggles. Eliot feels even more creeped out now. Hardison so didn't have to elaborate on that, he really, really didn't.

"You don't wanna make out with your sister?" Parker teases, and starts climbing over Eliot to get to Hardison.

"Away! Away, woman! AWAY!" Hardison exclaims, sitting up and backing away with his hands held out in front of him like a cross. Eliot rolls his eyes.

"Parker, get off of me please."

"Mmm… nope! I don't think so," she tells Eliot, looking down at him with a little grin. He holds out his finger to her.

"If you say one thing about brother/sister love while you're on top of me I will _so_ throw you down."

"Promise?"

"Hardison, make her get off of me," Eliot says, not liking the mischievous look in Parker's eyes.

"I would, if you didn't train her to be a fucking killing machine," Hardison says, looking at Parker warily. "I ain't messing with all of that."

"I didn't train her to— _what?"_

"You and her and the sparring and the last time? Yeah, remember the last time?! She totally almost strangled me with her thunder thighs of _doom!_ No, uh uh, no, never. No thanks."

That _does_ make Eliot laugh, just looking at how serious Hardison is. Parker's looking at him like he has three heads, "I have thighs that can make thunder of doom?"

Jeez.

"Hardison, Parker already knew how to—"

"I want icecream," Parker says suddenly, getting off of Eliot and sitting up. Christ, talk about ADD.

"I don't have any," Eliot tells her. Her face noticeably falls.

"Can we go to the grocery store? OH OH! We could push around a cart together and act like a happy little family. It'll be fun!"

Fun was not the word Eliot would have used. He just blinks at Parker.

"Um. No."

"But…"

"Parker, can we go talk to Sophie first? Then we can…" Ugh, he didn't want to. "We can go… _grocery shopping."_

It wasn't like he was against grocery shopping. No, he loved food, loved to cook. But doing it with Parker and Hardison? Somehow that seemed to equal a recipe for disaster.

Parker narrows her eyes, looking at Eliot. She seems to think about that for a moment, then decides, "Only if you let me dress up like those women from that movie… what was it? The one we just watched?"

"….The Stepford Wives?" Hardison asks, his face coloring in horror.

"Yeah those. And I wanna skip around with a basket and say, 'Honey, do we need some eggs?' and stuff like that. Oh and you have to make crab legs for dinner. With mashed potatoes with that yummy gravy. And the icecream is still in. Oreo. We can get sprinkles!"

Eliot just blinks at her. She can't be serious… can she? Fuck, of course she is. And who eats crab with _mashed potatoes?_ Jesus Lord.

"Fine."

"Eliot, I protest this," Hardison says. "I'm not coming if she's gonna go all scary domestic wife on us. I think I'll have nightmares."

"Yes you are, you have to come. Eliot, tell him he has to come. Otherwise I won't talk to Sophie!"

"Hardison, get your ass up. You're coming," Eliot says as he gets up to get his shoes.

"But—" Hardison starts to protest, even though he knows its futile.

"End of discussion."

God, this is gonna be… just god. But relationships are about compromise, right? Even if the compromise is really fuckin' weird…

**TBC…**


	28. The Domestication

**CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT**

**The Domestication**

"I changed my mind."

"No, Parker. _No._ We're here, and you're going to do this," Eliot tells her firmly, giving her a little encouraging nudge – okay maybe a push – forwards, towards Sophie's door. Parker fidgets uncomfortably.

"What if I hit her?"

"Hardison will stop you."

"What? _Me? _Why me?!" Hardison exclaims, looking at Eliot like he must be crazy for ever suggesting such nonsense. Eliot just gives him a look and points to Parker, demanding. Hardison flips him off then points to him. Eliot slaps his hand away.

Parker's just standing there though, at the door, not doing anything. Eliot sighs and rings the doorbell for her, since she seems incapable. Parker fidgets some more, then when she hears the door click as it's unlocked, she slips back behind Hardison and Eliot, deciding to… hide.

Great. He can feel her try to slip away, and he grabs her wrist. She ain't going anywhere.

Sophie opens the door, looking at the two men, since she can't see Parker behind them. "Oh… hi," she says, surprised.

"Parker needed to see you," Eliot says, and quite literally pulls Parker out from behind him and places her in front of Sophie. Parker grumbles under her breath, forcing her grip away from Eliot's grasp. She doesn't look at Sophie.

"Oh… Parker," Sophie says, like she's surprised that she'd ever see her again. "I didn't think you'd… Um, come… come on in," she says, and Eliot can hear the worry in her voice. When Sophie moves though, Parker doesn't, so Eliot has to give her a push forward. Again. Damn. He follows her in there, but then realizes Hardison's not behind him.

"HARDISON!" he growls. He didn't want to have to deal with this with two people. Hardison scurries in as if his Nana just called him. There, that's better. Least for once they're kind of listening to him.

Sophie closes the door behind them, and when she turns, she's staring at Parker. "So, you—"

"Eliot says I need to let you apologize," she states flatly, arms across her chest. "So tell me you're sorry for being a stupid bitch so I can go."

"Parker!" Both Eliot _and _Hardison exclaim.

"No, I deserved that," Sophie says softly, but she's still looking at Parker. She approaches Parker carefully, as if she's some kind of bomb. "I _am _sorry, Parker. I know you don't believe me, but I am. I thought I was protecting you, but I went about it the wrong way and I violated your privacy, and for that I am really, really sorry." She pauses, turning to Hardison. "And the same goes to you, I am truly sorry to all of you."

Parker eyes her cautiously, like she doesn't know if she can trust her. "Say you were a bitch."

"Parker!" Eliot protests. She is not being helpful in any way shape or—

"I was a bitch, okay? A huge bitch. I'm sorry," Sophie says. Eliot looks at Sophie weird, then at Parker. How did Parker have this magical little ability to make anyone do whatever she wanted? It's not cool.

Parker narrows her eyes, studying her. Finally she says, "Fine. You're sort of forgiven. But if you do it again I will scratch your eyes out."

"Fair enough," Sophie says, and tries to give her a little smile. Parker just huffs a little.

"Parker…" Eliot prods. It was her turn now.

Parker puffs out her cheeks a little, crosses her eyes, and then rolls them before saying monotonically, "I'm sorry I tried to attack you. And for swearing at you and… all of that."

"It's fine."

Good. See? That wasn't so hard.

"Now hug," Eliot dictates. Both of them look at him like he had gone insane. "Hey, I'm just trying to help, here."

"Group hug!" Hardison exclaims, obviously excited by the prospect. But then again, this is the man that always wanted to 'hug it out.' Jeez. He is _not _participating in a—

But then he's shoved in between him and Sophie as he pulls Parker in and dictates this little squeezing fest that absolutely everyone was uncomfortable with besides him. He's gonna smack him in the back of the head later for this.

"Okay, enough, I can't breathe!" Parker says in a strangled voice, swatting at Hardison. When they release, Parker lets out an overdramatic gasp of air.

Things were more or less good with the team after that. Nate decided he would like to pretend that three of his thieves aren't fucking each other though, and everytime any one of them would be all over another, he'd clear his throat loudly and ask about the weather. Apparently that was his code for "No PDA in front of me." But those terms were acceptable, slightly. Only cause the private displays of affection trumped the public ones any damn day.

The grocery store trip was a nightmare, but they got through it… somehow. Hardison tried to slip off, slightly embarrassed by Parker's erratic skipping in her fluffy dress (Eliot had _no _idea why she even owned the thing in the first place, and probably didn't want to know), so Eliot decided to hold his hand in a death grip to keep him close and embarrass him further by calling him sweetie and acting flamboyant. It wasn't in a store that anyone was gonna recognize him anyway, and the look on Hardison's face? Priceless.

After they're little sleepover was over, they maybe slept separately for one day out of the week. They seemed to always end up over each other's houses one way or another, and while Eliot is usually keen on space, he enjoyed being with both of them so much that he found space was kind of overrated.

Sex seemed to take over their lives for a good month. Which, Eliot wasn't complaining, but it did kind of interfere with work. They maybe might have screwed up running a background check on that mark properly, leaving them in a disastrous mess when they realized that he was part of the Albanian mob at the very worst moment, all because when Hardison has been trying to research, Eliot's mouth had been wrapped around his dick.

He blames Parker though. Just cause she's easy to blame.

But the sex did end up becoming a normal thing rather than an all-the-freaking-time thing after awhile, once the new, fresh aspect of their relationship had passed. They has all settled into something comfortable, and it was… nice.

Fuckin' weird still. Being with two people. But nice none the less.

The problem with this little relationship was that they all kind of rubbed off on each other. Eliot was teaching them both how to fight, which was kind of a disaster in Hardison's case but a win in Parker's. They all know how to pick a whole variety of locks because of Parker. And Hardison? Well, you would think he would teach them how to hack. Instead…

"Give me some gold," Parker tells Hardison as she stares at her computer screen. "My gear is shit. Completely impractical too. In reality no one would be able to move well enough to dodge in this. I should have been a warlock or something, they at least get cloth. I could move better. And have superpowers." A pause. "Gimme gold."

"What are you gonna give me for it?" Hardison asks, this dirty little smirk on his face.

"Hardison, you are not gonna fuckin' use Parker like hooker. Especially for WoW gold. And are you gonna run me through the Stockades or do I gotta kick your ass? Seriously. It's been like a fuckin' hour," Eliot complains, looking up from his own computer to his boyfriend.

"Like your level 26 Warrior could even begin to _comprehend_ kicking my level 80 Druid's ass. Puh-lease," Hardison mocks, laughing a bit. Eliot just narrows his eyes.

"Ain't talkin' about in-game, geek boy."

That makes Hardison stop laughing and his eyes flicker up to Eliot. He makes a face. "I'm busy, dude. Use the dungeon finder."

"Last time I did that I got kicked out of the fuckin' group! Bunch of assholes. Not my fuckin' fault they were making stupid tactical moves. This is why I should always be the damn leader. When other people do it they make half-assed decisions and wind up getting our healer maimed."

Hardison snorts. "As a tank, aren't you the one who's supposed to not get the healer killed?"

"You know what? Shut up, Hardison. If people fuckin' listened to me, we would have taken that mob from the side instead of head on cause that just attracted a second one. Stupid ass move. If any of these geeks knew anything about—"

"I'll play with you, Eliot," Parker interrupts, looking up at him. But Eliot doesn't like that idea.

"You don't listen to direction either."

"So? I'm a high enough level that I can get you through it and you can just follow."

"Yeah, about that, do you not _sleep?_ How the hell have you gotten to level 42 already?" Eliot asks, looking at her like she must be insane. Well, okay, that part was already known, but seriously.

Parker blinks. "By killing things," she states. Then a smile creeps across her face. "It's fun."

"Yeah, yeah. _Fine,_ you can run me through, I just need the damn achievement," Eliot grumbles as he turns back to his computer. There's silence a little while as they all played, until Hardison yells out:

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"What?" Parker asks, looking up.

"Eliot, why the hell did you leave the guild?!"

Eliot doesn't look up at him; he just continues kicking the shit out of a Defias Captive. "Think I'll make my own."

"Pfft, _what?_ Eliot, you need nine other people to start a guild, and you know only me and Parker. You piss off every other player. And I ain't leaving my own guild. And Parker isn't leaving mine either. Right, Parker?"

Parker doesn't answer.

"Parker!"

"What?" she says, annoyed. "I don't want to get in the middle, I'm busy. And Eliot, keep up."

"I'm like half your fuckin' level, slow the hell_ down_," Eliot complains as he loots another corpse. "And I can start a guild if I fuckin' feel like it."

"Eliot, what's your problem?"

"You're a lying sack, that's my problem," Eliot grumbles, then yells. "PARKER! Will you let me fuckin' loot for shits sake?! You might not need this crap but I do. Just wait a fucking second."

Parker sighs in annoyance and taps her laptop impatiently.

"You're mad cause I promised to run you through an instance and didn't? Seriously?" Hardison asks, looking at Eliot like he's sprouted an extra freaking head.

"No."

Yes.

"Eliot, I was just trying to—"

"Don't care."

"Eliot…"

"Eliot, I killed Bazil. Come get his head," Parker interrupts. But Eliot doesn't come over in the game; instead he stops and looks up at Hardison, annoyance written all over his face.

"You're the one who wanted us to play with you so badly, and you don't even fuckin' play with us. What the hell is that?"

"Baby…" Hardison starts, closing his laptop, clearly not wanting to fight over World of Warcraft and comes over to him. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd just wait till you guys got to 80. I mean my alts are still higher level than ya'lls…"

"Don't call me baby," Eliot snarls. He was not going to be domesticated in that way. Even though he may like being called baby. Only a little.

"Boo boo kitty fuck?" Hardison revises, coming over to sit next to Eliot on the bed. Boo boo... _what _now?

"You've got to have brain damage," Eliot mutters, still annoyed. But Hardison is giving him puppy dog eyes and rubbing on his leg and… yup, okay now kissing his neck. God damnit. He sighs in defeat.

"I hope they all rez and you _die_," Parker snaps at Eliot, annoyed at waiting for him any longer. Damnit. This game…

"Sorry," Eliot says, pushing Hardison off him gently, but not before crashing his lips to his just cause… hell, just cause. Parker clicks her tongue in annoyance. "Alright, alright, damn." Eliot turns back to his game and finishes the dungeon, but he can tell Parker's still annoyed at him a bit. After they were done, be closes his laptop and looks at her. "Come here."

"Nope."

"Parker."

"I was trying to help you."

"I know you were."

"And you just ignored me."

"I'm sorry."

Parker makes a face, narrowing her eyes at him. Studying. "Say you're an asshole."

Jeez.

Hardison chuckles from over in his little corner, laptop back on. Eliot flips him off, but isn't sure if he's even paying attention. But he sighs and says, "I'm an asshole. Okay?" Damn her, why can she make everyone do this? But it makes her smile, it lights up her whole damn face and Eliot forgets about it cause she just looks so beautiful when she smiles.

She bounds up to him, pouncing on him. He lets out an "Oof!" as she connects with him, making the two fall back against the bed. She giggles and her face is nuzzled into his heck and he has the fleeting theory that she might be a bit bipolar.

Whatever.

"We should get a dog," Parker tells him as she wraps and arm around his torso and snuggles into him. He runs his fingers through her hair.

"Dunno about _us,"_ he replies. "_You _can get a dog."

"No, I want all of us to get a dog. Together."

"And what? Keep moving it between all three of our houses?" Eliot asks, like that's a stupid idea. Cause it is.

"No," Parker says, like he's the one being stupid. "We'd all live together with the dog."

That makes Eliot freeze. Apparently Hardison too because he could no longer hear the clicking of the keyboard anymore. He looks over at him, a bit helplessly. What was he supposed to say to that? But Hardison apparently didn't have an answer to that either because he's silent.

Parker looks back and forth at the two men. "Yes? No? …Why are we quiet?"

"We, uh…" Hardison starts, blinking a little.

"We've only been dating three months, Parker," Eliot says, just to say, hell, _something._

"Uh huh," Parker says, clearly not getting it.

"So we should probably wait a little bit until we all live together," Eliot tells her, just trying to make her get it in the nicest way possible without having her throw a fit.

But she did throw a fit.

Eliot blames that for now sharing his house with two other people. Parker yelled and said that they were always together anyway and that they were just evil dog and happiness haters and somehow two days later there were moving boxes littered all over his house. He might blame Hardison a little for not backing him up too. But. Fuck. Hell. Whatever. They were here now. Living with him. And…

Basically it was all the same. So he really didn't have much reason to bitch.

They did get a dog. A little yappy thing that Parker picked out and named "Ruffles McRuffster". Eliot calls it "Ruff" for short. Hardison calls it "Mickey." Parker disapproves of anything but the dog's full name, and corrects them each time they try to call it anything else.

It was all so screwed up. Domestic but so unorthodox. Insane but so content. Eliot was never one for commitment; it never ended well because of his job. But they all knew his job, his lifestyle, they all had it too and somehow it just made it easier. It made it work.

And for the first time in ten years, Eliot was really happy.

**THE END**


End file.
